Loafing in the woods
I write this down
in the country again
in a new spot
seated on a log
in the woods
warm sunny midday
Have been loafing here
deep among the trees
shafts of tall pines
oak and hickory
with a thick undergrowth
of laurels and grapevines
the ground covered by debris
dead leaves
breakage
moss
everything solitary
ancient and grim
I hear the wind
through the pine-tops
I sit and listen
long long
to its hoarse sighing
above the stillness
blue-birds robins
and meadow-larks
begin to appear
all the senses
sight sound smell
delicately gratified
John Lyons
(adapted from Walt Whitman’s Specimen Days)