Walking Through Woodland Poem by Phil Soar

I wander through woodland
Knowing I am being watched

Unable to see my stalkers
I look over my shoulder

All I see are the trees being stroked by a mild breeze
Nothing else is obvious

And yet I am being watched
And it is me who is the guest here

The roots try to trip me
I try to go quietly, but the leaves are crisp under foot

Giving my presence away to those who spy on me
And they hide until I pass by

I can here them laughing in my wake
Knowing they appear after I have moved on

I think they probably talk about me later
As they chatter through the wood

Talking to each other, carried by the wind

I shall go there again and hope to meet them
For it is them I seek

As I wander through woodland