This England, This November

Screen_shot_2017-12-05_at_08.50.24by Patrick Howse20 Nov 2017

The forest,
gold brown,
dripping blood,
crowds
a naked beech.

It stood
a hundred years
before deer
browsed
bark in a ring.

Embedded
roots dissolve
in wet leaf
nourished
earth,

The branches
claw at
a callous
boiling
winter sky.