No 2.: ”no trace”

Written in the style of a Renga, on walking the River Pont through the parkland of Cheeseburn Grange, November 2nd 2017.

River Drifting Leaves

Rivers’ murmurs
sweep autumn leaves downstream
jetplane drones above

a squirrel chatters
alarm from a beech tree

an unseen car
engine roar from a road
beyond the quiet dene

twigs float downstream
over a rock-strewn river bed

through trees
sunlight washes
soft yellows greys and greens

in a leaf-scattered stillness
there is no sound

dropped branches rot
back to soil
on the dry woodland floor

tucked into the foot of a beech
buttressed against the world

tapping from above
mini hammer blows
seeking out grubs

tall trees
speak of past generations

green leaved plants
have not yet felt
the first frosts of autumn

banked here by stones
the Pont runs its manicured way

colonies of boulders
for river drifting leaves

light slowly fades
I chill as dusk approaches

a second nuthatch
taps in the giant beech
at last I see it

flying upstream
bolt of blue fire

by the bank
the river eddies
logic defying upstream flow

yews shade the river
a mirror of darkness

in the meadow
grass heads float
in misty evening haze

detail blurs as light fades
all becomes softer.