AN ENCOUNTER IN THE WOODS

AN ENCOUNTER IN THE WOODS



I came upon it not expecting.
and at first I thought it out of place
setting as it were by itself in a clearing,
by a stream,
in the woods.

but with second thought I could see that the place it was, is the place it belonged.
As if placed by it's own desire
not by someone's design.

The undergrowth all around was dense,
and not wishing to disturb,
I kept my distance.
Then I saw the path.

Well hidden and long not trodden by human step.
Carefully I took it.

Old wood and rusting metal are the only things now that time has allowed to remain
and the smell of oil and of sawdust and of leather
and a hundred other scents that make up such a place.

The work that was here has long passed
and only could be imagined by me.

Long that day I lay in tall grass meadows
that are turning brown from autumn
watching the shadows lengthen
thinking of daddy
because he liked such things as this
and wishing that he were here,
then realizing,
that he is.

Together we sat in a field.
on a warm October evening,
in a clearing,
at a stream,
by an old sawmill in the woods.