THE
LOST PATH
Today I traced a
long-forgotten pathway,
Still discernible (but
only just)
Between two lines of
hedges
Long since grown to
trees.
A portion, now, it is,
for foxes
(Whose trails I failed
to follow
With too-intrusive steps)
And where frightened,
flustered pheasants
Find a welcome sanctuary.
Here sharp scimitars of
briars and
Rotten toadstool tree-stumps
bar my way
As, stumbling forward, I
seem to feel
The footsteps of another
time,
Of village lads and
lasses
Who wandered
hand-in-hand on summer evenings
And stole shy, secret
kisses
Where even prattling
thrushes
Would never tell.
