After Snowberries and marvellous spindle flowers

in the young autumn wood at old lark meadow 

A train journey

Grey skies and waves of emotion

Joy Harjo holding my hand walking me home

Reminding me of the poignancy of understanding 

We detour through

A sea of rolling land 

flecked with sheep.

Pink earth streaming through still vivid vegetation

strobes by

Interspersed with Stubble fields harvested of their summer gold

In the railway sidings burning bushes flame October leaves 

Amidst spent Buddleia fireworks 

And great Balls of mistletoe nestle in trees.

Flocks of birds, white, grey, black,

Rise up from the fields 

Roused 

The train carriage rocks and rolls 

Trembling through my body

We pass Rows of houses, a stream and a pair of geese

Before crossing the river bridge 

And Skirting the estuary’s edge

A Beautiful father travels home

with young sons excited by thoughts of climbing mountains 

and dreaming a high cottage to belong to the wood cutter.