The Wood's Edge

After walking across the forest
at a time of waking, we swung back
to head home like two turned away

by despair in truth. And chose again
the forest, grieving each hour that died

to a church bell, Autumn in leaves
coming to the bottom soon. A hawk
like a kite in mid-air, there, then here,

watched us with disinterested eyes.
I was walking beside you that morning,

breathing in the promise of air. A turn
to the woods and we were in the forest
again, things preceding us: this dark deer

and her fawn ticking off from our midst
into an unintended path, snapping twigs
down a lane. We lacked many things,

fear, natural love, so went along behind
their frightened hooves to the other side.