A Walk in the Woods at Sunset

Bill Fitzsimmons

Do you sometimes walk at sunset
Through the long woods up beyond your house
Where the mournful owl swoops
Among the darkening trees?
Do you pause and listen to the rustle
And scurry of unseen feet, the various
Mutterings of the forest?
As the last light fades, do you
Feel suddenly afraid, yet strangely alert
To the nightlife around you?

If you do, you will know the electric thrill of freedom,
The elemental rush of tuned senses
As the soft night breezes ruffle your hair
And the mossy ground sinks beneath you.
The stars flicker above, seen intermittently
Through the lace trellis of the treetops,
And the moon casts a silver net of radiance.
Moon-moths brush against your cheek
And somewhere a night-bird calls a piercing note:
A sad, yet exhilarating, sound.

And you will know that you are in your rightful place,
At one with the forward momentum of life,
As the trees around you are anchored in the rich loam
Of the forest and the wind shakes your bones
With the knowledge if your affinity to the earth
Your dark and fertile mother.

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