The music of the forest
falls from the trees,
follows the creeks
down through the stony wynd,

over logs and slumped banks
to gather and seed the song
along the winter barren,

faint in the distance
where we sit beside fires,
listening in the dark.

 

 

13 Responses

  1. When I read your poetry I always find myself reminiscent. Of times calmer than now…

    We both have memories – your poetry brings back my best, most fondest ones. Those of a boy.

    Thank you.

  2. This is a lovely contrast to my favorite experience of walking in the silence of fluffy new fallen snow, which I haven’t seen since the 1990s! Yet, I too have those memories mentioned by Robert Ross Able above.
    Yes, thanks.

  3. One of the things I appreciate about your poetry is the steady and rhythmic flow throughout the years. It makes me think about the larger cycle of seeding the song throughout the seasons.

  4. Even in the dark we know the music is there, falling from the trees and reassuring us that all is well. Lovely, Don!

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