I sometimes walk at sunset
through the long woods up beyond my house
where the mournful owl swoops
among the darkening trees.
I pause and listen to the rustle
and scurry of unseen feet, the various
mutterings of the forest.
As the last light fades, I feel afraid,
yet strangely alert
to the nightlife around me.
And I know the electric thrill of freedom,
the elemental rush of tuned senses
as the soft night breezes ruffle my hair
and the mossy ground sinks beneath me.
The stars flicker above, seen intermittently
through the lace trellis of the treetops,
and the moon casts a silver net of radiance.
Moon-moths brush against my cheek
and somewhere a night-bird calls a piercing note:
a sad, yet exhilarating, sound.
And then I know that I am in my rightful place,
at one with the forward momentum of life,
as the trees around me are anchored in the rich loam
of the forest and the wind shakes my bones
with the knowledge of my affinity to the earth,
that dark and fertile mother.
Bill Fitzsimons
This is a lovely poem Bill. I love the range of your poetry, different subjects, different styles. This is so different from The Thrill of it All, Umbilicus and Pecking Order for instance.
Hi Bill-Jim here
I like your poem’ A walk in the wood at sunset’.I go for a walk across from my house in the woods every evening. You’ve taken the words out of my head , but put them in a better way.
I love the lines ‘As the light fades,I feel afraid yet strangely alert’ ‘And I know the electric thrill of freedom’. Great stuff Bill,some great lines throughout the poem.
jim
Thanks Jim,
I real appreciate your comments and I’m pleased you enjoyed the poem.
I’ve been reading your recent poems and I love the one about the kite coming to a sticky end – a grim warning about the dangers of plastic pollution indeed!
Cheers,
Bill