Elegies

Soft underfoot, walking on summer’s pride
smell of fallen leaves, decay's shocking sweetness
a land of verticals, drawing the eye up
columns of temples from a world before temples
solidity, despising man’s short time-frame
slowing down our hurry, shutting for the winter
like shops in seaside towns; rain drips from leaf
to leaf long after the storm has passed.

Acorns, brown as the dying leaves
a whole tree in my hand, its branches
thick enough to wrap my arms around, to climb
riding the boughs windwards, creak of ship’s timbers,
leaf-song urgent as the rush of water over weir,
rippling river, rustle of silk, turning of pages,
whispered elegies for the elms, answering and answering.