Today’s prompt is a stanza from “The Lake At Dusk” by Robin Robertson (from Swithering, Harcourt 2006)
Rinsed after the rain,
The forest is triggered and tripwired;
When I pause for a bird call
The silence takes time
To reassemble around me
Like a dream retrieved.
No-one will find me here.
Go!
I decided to make “no-one will find me here” a bad thing.
Check out “No One Would Come” —> http://wp.me/pXFdv-6U