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| Ruffed grouse love wild grapes |
Just you in thrift shop wool among the trees
alone with your own thoughts
a few crows croaking on the hill
silver up the sides of trunks
long shadows rooted at their feet
pointing toward town
A busy place your mind
mostly with the past
mostly with the why did she
a lot of with the and why not
a grouse explodes from cover
buffeting your space
Plenty of room in the woods
the crowns empty and sighing
the tarnished sky spread out
no stopping thought
the mind has a mind of its own
How strange to meet yourself
in the solitude of weather
stranger in a strange land
finding comfort among trees
in a world that's not what you expected.
