I was barely eight but I remember

You scolding me with harsh words.

I wanted to see beyond the fence

And gaze into the big wood.

You told me I would get lost

But I ignored the sound.

I ventured away, high on the sound

Of leaves beneath my feet. I remembered

Your face and how you said I would be lost.

But the words

Were insignificant in the wood.

In the corner of my eye, I was scolded by the fence.

I seemed to walk for days. The fence

Dipped away. I halted as a little sound

Flitted in between branches and wood.

A voice, intriguing and hard to remember.

Some kind of elvish word,

Whispered once and then lost.

I hadn’t processed the loss

When two elves appeared, swords raised to fence.

I remained unseen as they brawled and hurled words.

Their swords clashed and clanged and crashed with sound

Until the purpose of battle was barely a memory

And they fought for a thrill in the woods.

The battle ended as I knew it would.

They stood there, puzzled, completely lost.

“Why are we fighting?” “I don’t remember.”

They left, inner demons delicately fenced.

Their footsteps echoed til I lost the sound.

I paused to listen for the elvish word.

I wanted to follow, to chase the word,

But I was so deep in woods.

Your voice floated above the sound

Of the elvish one. I didn’t want to be lost

In here anymore. I ran, desperate, to the fence,

I was grateful that the path was easy to remember.

Now that I’m home, I can’t remember the word.

I’ve been beyond the fence again, into the wood,

But I seem to have lost the sound.