
Occasional side-bit
Down every day
to the solitude of the woodland
a serene sun filtering
through the trees
as I sit here by the pond
the water surface moving
in gentle wind-ripples
before me
On an old beech at the edge
decayed and slanting
yet still with life and leaves
on its mossy limbs
a grey squirrel is exploring
running up and down
flicking its tail before sitting
on its haunches
Suddenly it sees me
and the game is up
as it races back into the thick
of the foliage again
John Lyons
Adapted from Walt Whitman’s Specimen Days