Forest Walk

Screen_shot_2017-12-05_at_08.50.24by Patrick Howse15 Jan 2018

Birch cracks against bare birch
Whipped by the winter wind,
And strangling roots entwine,
Tightly binding a sudden
Turf-smooth clearing.

It's late, just time
To watch the ancient god
Complete a stately procession
Towards the clawing,
Bony fingers of the trees.

They criss-cross busily,
A complicated lacework etched
Into the darkening sky,
As the unforgiving shadow
Swallows the hope of dawn.