Lines In A Greenwood Poem by Sheena Blackhall

Within the city of the wood
The busy insects hum
Two squirrels pour along a bough
Like quicksilver. The bumbles thrum
Fat shoppers, a continuum
Swinging each flower's frail pendulum
Chiming of here and now

Surveillance from the towering clouds
The wide winged buzzards wheel
The leafy canopy below
Bathed in an eldritch sylvan glow
Where sycamores, safety bestow
And timid birds conceal

Three ash trees thole the stranglehold
Of ivy's grim embrace
The palmate patterns, liquid drops
Descend from forest's chimney tops
Twigs that cruel winter's axe will chop
And leafy lives erase

A breeze arises. All the leaves
Are chattering each to each
Green saplings swish, great elms creak
And all are moving, mighty, meek
The rowans brush the robin's cheek
As she flies out of reach

A lightning bolt has blocked the path
Spilt beech and mistletoe
But unconcerned the recent tread
Of deer hooves on the muddy bed
Of track with mulch and fern spread
Have gone where whispers go