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Where twilight peeps through wooded glades
And shafting bars of light pierce broken barricades;
Twixt alternating bands of beech and leaning spindled birch
The broken armatures of fern lie caged, in mounds of brambled earth:
And all, a time-lapsed frame of natural motions’ rage!
Then giving way to ethereal space and moss’ed monuments of stone,
And evening’s solitudes and glades where we may dwell in peace alone…
‘tis then she comes in flitting fleeting flight and dance
And alights from stone to mossy stone;
But nature’s strobes and alternating banded lights play upon my vision;
And blending with her prancing passage of delight,
thus… she is gone, in innocent derision!
Amidst this twilit space that drew her in her purpose
I’m left, in wonderment, at nature’s woodland circus.
Poetry and imaging by David Secrett