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Tuesday, 5 April 2022

Smoke In The Woods

                                                     Smoke In The Woods

Footfalls muffled by leaf-mould

Springy turf of mulch and lichen

Amongst the dark and louring trees

Their trunks tall and straight

Like rigid columns

Holding up the canopy

That shades the lower cultures

Bud-laden, thick and lush

The saplings and the bushes

Of the under-growth

 

And among the monumental beeches

Pierced by glittering

Flickering sunlight shafts

Hangs a hazy skein of wood-smoke

Diaphanous, gauzy

Floating, drifting slowly

Its lingering strands

Fingering higher branches

 

And within the greater silence

Where there is no bird-song

Nor any rodent scuttlings

That can carry any distance

Through the depth of empty forest

There penetrates the faintest crackling

Cracking twigs and logs upon a fire

A simple sound of comfort

And a promise of human warmth

 

The smells of damp and ash

And simple cooking become stronger now

Than natural woodland aromas

Betraying the location

Of a camp-site under canvas

Hidden in a hollow

Among the dark, dank greenery

Of wet, mouldering vegetation

Near the gurgling stream

A lonely retreat

Far from any crowd

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2022 

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