We have come to the edge of the woods,
out of brown grass where we slept, unseen,
out of knotted twigs, out of leaves creaked shut,
out of hiding.

At first the light wavered, glancing over us.
Then it clenched to a fist of light that pointed,
searched out, divided us.
Each took the beams like direct blows the heart answers.
Each of us moved forward alone.

...It is their turn now,
their turn to follow us. Listen,
they out down their equipment.
It is useless in the tall brush.

And now they take the first steps, now knowing
how deep the woods are and lightless.
How deep the woods are.

- Jacklight by Louise Erdrich