Evening Walk
Night is falling quietly over the forest,
Like a small bird on the wing it glides
But silently floats, without a chorus.
Its cloak envelops the trees, and hides
All colour from view, the only shade left
Is black; all colours are gone as if by theft.
A lone wolf howls, thanking the night
For dimming the sky, turning it black,
And dimming the shine of the snow, silver-white.
I start forwards again, my foot on the track
This wolf had made, its prints in the snow
Are beckoning, telling me where to go.
The wind blows softly, rattling the branches
Of the slumbering trees, and stirring up wisps
It’s a warning I ignore - I like to take chances.
What fun is life if you don’t take risks?
The branches are frightening but quite harmless.
They don’t scare me; they continue regardless.
Between the gaps of wind-blown cloud,
The stars glitter above, like specks of silver,
Shining in the navy black of heaven’s shroud.
The clouds flow smoothly on like a pale river,
Hiding the stars and filtering moonbeams
That fall to the earth in brilliant streams.
The forest stops and the treeline gives way
To a field, covered in snow and drifted smooth
Except for the set of tracks, leading ever away
The wolf howls again, it’s cry to soothe
And assure - it’s far away, too far to find.
I turn back to the forest in shadow defined.
The wind slows, and decreases its sound.
The darkness settles calmly on the land,
The clouds keep light from falling on the ground.
Behind me the trees coldly and boldly stand.
As I reach home, the wolf howls once more -
And night is left like it was before.