See here for the photograph that inspired the words – G:)
It’s about the trees,
or the sheep,
or the sky.
Swaying in the breeze;
chewing the Winter feed;
or hanging ominously above us –
you know which is to which.
All together
in one picture
they sit side by side,
juxtapositioned
by Nature.
The New Forest felt particularly old, today; and parts of it decidedly ancient. Still, it would most likely outlast me.
In thirty or forty years time I would probably be buried deep or burnt to a crisp; whilst the forest would just be a little older, a little less sentient.
How morbid, I thought. But, realistic, I added. These trees have been here for absolute ages; some, for centuries – and the forest as a whole unbroken since William caused it to be planted. New it was then.
Somewhere, a screen-door slams
A car horn is punched in irritation;
A baby cries for milk;
and the city mill keeps on turning;
But, I am here
Where a twig cracks underfoot
Birds are heard
And space there is to think the word.
I shuffle through leaves
And breathe the air
Releasing the concerns
Renewing the care
One soul in a forest
Alone for a while
In this underpopulated wood
In this overpopulated world.
Posted in Forest, Hampshire, nature, New Forest, Woods
Tagged #forest, #hampshire, #nature, #newforest, #Trees, Poem, Poetry
 | The Febrile Imaginin… on I Needed Warmth |
 | Angela van Son on I Needed Warmth |
| The Febrile Imaginin… on I Needed Warmth |
| Angela van Son on I Needed Warmth |
| The Febrile Imaginin… on In the land of Yenom… |
