Another Part of the Forest

Gerard Malanga

Mind you get it right.
It’s past 5 anyway. Someone was staring down the hallway
into the sliver of afternoon light.
The telephone rang twice the next day and then stopped.
What else to discuss?
Yes, an entire summer seems like ages.
The sun never sets in this part of the world
and in another part of the forest the same holds true.
A thick mist was blowing through the mis en scene.
A path was finally roughed out. A bicycle lay broken and rusted.
Then all scenes were re-shot overnight until the landscape
eased into neglect. Voices of children echo across the valley.
The voices become fainter. The birds become fainter.
My dad and I were headed towards the apple orchard
when all this occurred. Finally, everything is postponed.