Enoch Martin

The gull screeches it’s loneliness as the foghorn startles it from it’s sodden perch, Mist crawls into every crevice in the town like the tendrils of Dread, The drums of Death echo as I plunge into the pit- But I awake before I hit the ground.

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Long, thin blades of green Arching up toward the sky Bridges to nowhere But the little ladybug Uses it as her runway

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Creeping underneath Comes the smoke, filling the room But the door is locked

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My nose fills with the fragrance of cedar  Every tree is familiar  Beneath my bare feet I feel the soft dirt  The sun glints off the lake, gleaming silver  I see trees stretching to the horizon  Blueberries on every bush  I hear bird songs intertwine  As through the ferns I push    This is the […]

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Paddling with a friend across Howe Sound in my canoe, I heard a commotion near a small, rocky point jutting up out of the sea. Turning in that direction, I noticed the mass of seagulls hovering above the islet, periodically dive-bombing something down on the rocks. When we got closer, I heard what had drawn […]

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Tearing through the bushes, scratching bare arms on the sharp twigs, I pushed on towards the light. Almost there. Stepping over a fallen branch, my foot slipped on a wet rock and I almost lost my balance but regained it just as I stumbled out into the open. Leaves of dark red and burnt orange […]

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