You’ve always thought of forests as green,

but all around you tonight

seems blue.

The darkened trunks of trees

loom navy; the opalescent moon

gleams bright through the sapphire leaves,

makes your skin glow

cerulean.

The weight of your pack on your back

is eager for its destination.

You push aside cold, bony branches

and shuffle through wet, whispering leaves

fallen in clumps on the earth.

Finally, the clearing appears before you,

almost unnaturally round,

wide and empty but for the ancient,

magnificent tree.

Inhaling magic, you step into the circle,

feel tall teal grass brush your calves.

Hearing ropes groan –

ropes only creak

if they’re weighted –

you look up

so high into the cobalt braches

that your neck strains,

and you spot them.

Hundreds of skeletons

dangling by the neck,

swaying beneath gnarled branches

like demented wind chimes.

Some glow pure, brilliant white,

gleaming with inappropriate smiles

in this sea of azures,

but the old ones are browner, swing less...

bones get lighter with time.

The hairs on your neck dance

in recognition of your fate.

You pull out your rope

and begin to climb.