Eric Ashford Poet Free verse

Somewhere

Somewhere in these busy woods
a woodpecker tattoos tree bark,
I hear its piercing peck and drumming.

Above me songbirds and squirrels
hustle to and fro
through their arboreal thoroughfares.

Then I, in my absent mindedness,
meandered into this open glade;
here silence climbs up a rope-less tent
one pitched under a million feet of sky.

I could spend an hour here,
a week, for I am sheltered;
not only from woodland chatter and fuss
but also times hurried pulse.

This sunlit acre could be moonlit
perhaps somewhere it already is?
'Somewhere' has moved on
upon a pathway I cannot see from here.

This sylvan space, this patch of peace
is a tower of stillness,
a sunny circle of buttercups and stray bluebells,
and what I thought of as somewhere
bewitches me in a dappled roundness
of nowhere.

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