The grass grows tall
and ivy twines
o’er gate and wall and path.
Once a carriage road
then a track,
in the end, a path.
The earth recalls their passing,
the wind their song.
I stopped there once,
lost, or in a dream,
my footsteps raw in the dew bright field.
I remembered what lay beyond,
heard the voices faint and far,
saw them there,
as they were once,
as I once was.

I raised a hand to try the gates,
but rain and rust had wrought their ruin.
the gate sealed, a way no more.
A raven, like a sentry watched,
spread his wings,
darkness loomed behind him.
I felt the silence,
felt the ivy stir
like a curtain for a moment pulled aside
now falling back once more.

Writer, walker, poet, educator. Commercial fisherman, builder, donut maker, organic grower. Boston, U. City, Maine, South Africa, Madrid.

Writer, walker, poet, educator. Commercial fisherman, builder, donut maker, organic grower. Boston, U. City, Maine, South Africa, Madrid.