The bark.
Dog beat.
Log seat.
Rotted beneath.
Knotted pines, like wreaths.
The heat.
The shade.
The leaves falling, like a parachute brigade.
Unsaved.
Land on carpets of moss.
Layers and layers on top of the rocks.
They say the snakes sleep to the song of the frogs.
Seated upon the logs.
Percussive noise from the barks of the dogs.
The bark.
