He could hear the spines of leaves
Snapping with every step he took
Their Autumn crisp crunching cries
A choir for the whispering wind
The tall trees all surrounding
The brave and resolute little boy
Their far reaching finger tips
Swaying back towards the way he had come
He took one more step further
Then questioned his direction, his arc
The cave stood huge before him
Its quavering maw moaning a plea
Moisture snaked along its tongue
The rough pebbled path drew him nearer
Yes, closer, Yes, come closer
Dulcet deploring, beckoning forth
His silent mind moved forward
As he was conveyed onward himself
Pebbles, like slathered taste buds
Shifting, dispersed with every step
Then panic
Retreat
A trap
A trap
Too late
It gobbled
Him up
With a snap
