Dear all,

‘Walking in the Woods’

That day I saw you I had been walking in the woods, bluebells becoming less blue, merging into green of ferns and a darkening tree canopy. A hollow pad pad on the path as I move to the edge; joggers running beside me, not distancing, saving energy and focus for their task, a displaced need forcing a migration from treadmill to wilder and less predictable tracks.

Sinking into soft leaf mould and fragmenting earth I glance to the suddenness of a new blue and darting V of a tail. Did you feel that too? A primitive and infinite impulse giving way to a willingness: to risk uncertainty, exhaustion, even death, to continue life?

Thank you for sharing this with us Becky, such a wonderful poem.