these woods

these woods you walk
into
then walk out
haven't changed
much over
the years, so you
think,
as you do of yourself.
ignoring
what's fallen,
what's died
or grown over.
there are bones scattered
along the path
that you walk
over.
the bare whiteness
of flesh removed
awakens you
to nothing new.
you'll return to these woods
many times
before your own death,
before your own bones
are laid bare,
which bothers you
less and less
as you go deeper into
these old woods.