King of knowledge

             King of Knowledge

The crisp morning air crackles with your movement,
 Frozen breath marks where you once where.
The trees are mirrors, mirrors of sound reflecting your eerie cry
Through the forest for all to hear.
You wander alone,
An old wise monarch.
You move on and I wait,
I wait for you to pass this way again,
To catch one last glimpse of the one who taught me.
You are king, King of knowledge.

Thanks to Sally J. Skinny Love for the idea.