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
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
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.