Thursday, April 26, 2012
The soothing scent of conifers
And the aroma of cut grass
Haze slowly by, with dragonflies
Like winged rainbows or oil stains,
And twitters fly from hidden birds
In bushes bearing yellow bloom
’Neath rustling leaves as in a rush
The breeze plays branches like ocean waves.
An edge of broken rock protrudes
Its dirty point from underfoot
And prods into a booted heel
As clouds erupt from dusty path,
While daisies bend their sunshine heads
Away from shadows under leaves
And a beetle flutters emerald wings
But keeps its stroll along the track.
A single drop of water drips
To run along its streamy way
From blossomed branch to sweating brow,
Past a blinking eye and down his cheek,
Until it rests into his neck
Amongst his lightly sprouting stubble
And dries above his open collar
In setting orange evening heat.
He stands with chest half-bathed in light,
The other half, with right arm bare,
Shivers a little, under shadow,
And hairs stand up to catch warm air.
Alone in the woods, he flicks a hand
To ward a midge-swarm from his face,
And gently steps o’er moss and mushrooms,
Between cool boughs and into peace.