Caged Bird Inspired Piece

Hunting

 I know a place,
A hidden forest glade
Its hard to find
Sometimes

You're there when you get to the field in the hills with a stream in the corner,
with oaks and sugar maples all around.

When the field is green,
the sun never beats,
it rests in dappled specks through the leaves in the trees
and the stream's always cool
and there's always a breeze

When the leaves fall in shades of yellow and crimson,
there's  fog in the morning,
and a haystack formed from the golden cut grass,
and from the bases of the maple trees, buckets collect sap

Winter is similar, with moonlit snowfall,
and spring arrives softly with returning bird song,
and a thin green veil that slowly spreads over all.

This is the place to go.
The place to go hunting,
You'll find it in the woods,
And you'll know it when you find it.

Once you arrive,
ready your weapon and wait
and watch and wait
you may not see one right away.
What you are hunting is wispy,
they will dissolve into the trees before you can fully focus on them
The harder you look, the more hidden they will be.
Usually

Suddenly you'll open your eyes and there it is
hurry, before it disappears.
You can dress it here or later,
it doesn't really matter.

Walk back through the woods,
and emerge back into reality
and there, resting in the crook of your arm...

contained in a notebook of your choosing,
(I prefer spiral bound),
you have one.
A poem.