AT HOME IN THE WOODS



A poem inspired by Autumn, here at home in Spain and my nostalgia for northern woods. 




AT HOME IN THE WOODS


Threading through dark pines,
resin fresh on air chilled in
mountain’s shade, misting
incense of crushed thyme;
gaze past tree line to stoned terraces,
hillside striped with Levante greens,
sage silvered, olive bearing,
verdant beryl of ripening
‘mandarinas’ Christmas teasing,
yellow flushed fennel sway
on blowsy stretched stems,
gnomed vines bruised like fallen
grapes fermenting on red clay.

Living sense of Spanish presence
while loosened mind wanders
back to cool Northern woods;
jewelled moss slipping, squelch
of mushrooms hidden in leaf fall
freeing spores of fungal decay,
air ripe with cyclical change as
damp earth exudes richness of
summer humus, decomposing,
nurturing woodland as it sleeps;
think of lost ones who loved
these woods, permeating subsoil,
resting deep under oak trees.




© 2018 Jacqueline Knight Cotterill.  All rights reserved. 



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