Where The Heart Lies

The rare walk in the woods
fills memory
with its bird calls,
the scamper of squirrels
from limb to limb,
their leaps between trees.

Spring beds of may apples,
faint breath of air in summer heat,
the autumn tinge of sassafras,
winter bare limbs.

I follow the forest paths
of deer along ridges,
ground falling away
on both sides, then down
to rivulets and dry branches
far beneath, fingers
from Horse Creek
a mile away.

The brass clang
of the dinner bell
echoes across time
with vague recollections
of spider webs
and catching thorns
on the way back,

arrives at a landing
then three stairs
to a luncheon menu
rotating between
unspoken agenda,
bitter invective
and cold rage.

My entry for dVerse Poets’ Pub Open Link Night #43

18 thoughts on “Where The Heart Lies

  1. Such a peaceful pleasant scene until lunch – powerful ending – I like the way the last stanza flows out of the thorns and spider webs in the preceding verse

  2. Explicate this as internalized conversation with nature – filled with rapture, then concern, then worry, then anger at the dwindling of nature in our time. Very edgy while still bucolic. Masterful.

  3. wow she says as she comes screeching back to reality… great contrast here to emphasize your point, if you don’t mind, i’m going skip lunch and head back to those woods…

  4. Wow- what a twist! I was loving the lush descriptions of the forest walk, the smells, the sights- I was there! And then you smacked me in the face! Who, or what was lurking at that luncheon…. The turn of emotions you weaves here was excellent – great word usage, structure – just creatively unexpected! Great job

  5. Ouch! I slipped comfortably into that forest in the beginning, admired the rivulets and branches, then walked up those steps to a slap in the face. Why is life like that? Wish humans would stay out of the way. Good write.

  6. Nature does her best, and then people do their best to screw it up. To me this was all about being unable to escape from the tension of an unwanted family meeting/meal, but it could also be the sole property of the diner eating alone from his own bitter plate.

    • It was intended as memories of childhood, growing up in a home full of tension and anger, but I see where it could be the speaker in the poem and his own toxic brew.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s