Sunday, 3 November 2013

EPPING FOREST

Epping forest





near us
at the end of the line
the train stops
from darkness into air
no one comes this far
on the central line
maybe porcini pickers
and those
who run
from the smoke
stepping out on the platform
but becoming distant
from what you knew
and then with every footstep
crunching upon
the ways of old songs
and their lines.
Below you
are the ones who
came before
whose thin whisps of smoke
from clearings
sent uneasy messages
for man
to mean something.
And all at once
in early morning haze
a new summer began
millennia ago
and they
in the clearing asked
if man was coming

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