Wall In the Woods

Wall in the Woods A solitary pensive woodland canticle Wanders through summer’s souvenirs, A gypsy quilt of green transformed to crimson flame, And prophesies of empty paeans swiftly riding Through a meandering row of barren arms Keeping silent watch at last light over crumbling lines, Smooth river stones staggering Beneath the jealous hand of gravity’s lament For lost time and the skillful composer’s design, As seasons fled to forget the wall’s divide; One epoch stands at the trellis barrier of a foregone age On a footpath two worlds collide - atonal echoes escaping In a vision for once neat orchard rows overgrown Separated from a scattered copse of Queen Anne’s Lace; Seeking signs of clarity through slinking shadows From the clear eyed composition, standing mid gracious ferns, Barred from crossing – stepping over the seal of time signatures - Yet led to find a rusted gate -a scrolling key - To unlock a welcoming transition – melded vision transposition A secret weald of melancholy song walking by a wall.