A mess of moss and broken dead wood
underneath my boots
my jacket, military handmedown
had wire in the hood that made it hang
over my eyes
We tramped on, looking for nothing in particular
A stone’s throw from the road
Seven years ago I was in one of these fields
with an old girlfriend
it was grass stain spring
We stood on hay bales
wrapped in plastic like frozen meat
Marvelling at something so big;
I punched the black plastic
with a tiny boy fist
It was like punching a rhino’s flank
We laughed
God it was easy
I can see myself in the woods when I read this…