The Moon In The Wood Poem by David Wood

Walking the street on a clear crisp
Winter's night in the light of a crescent
Moon, Orion tightens his belt in full
View of the Plough making furrows
In a starry sky.

Clara's tail wagging in front of me
Held tight on her lead, head down
Already racing to the next lamp post.
Magpies already fast asleep in the
Wood as the night shift stirs in the

Dark green depths of a cold night
Where even the daffodils sleep.
We come to the edge of the wood
And Clara's nose works overtime
Sniffing the sweet scent of the night.

Owl silently perched on the bough
Eyes blinking scanning the area for
Rodents out taking the night air.
Only silence fills the air and peace,
Or the hope of peace, prevails.