A Field of Scat – v2

Late January, in the cold clear wood

Boots crunch through layers of snow and ice

Breath catches in beard and scarf

Freezing in the air before me

Leaves clatter in the wind between

the otherwise still forest

A clearing, by man or fire,

out in an opening where the sun bursts through

signs of the denizens of the glen

tell-tale markings, little confessions,

in turned soil, crushed tracks of all sizes

and a field of scat, of the white-tailed deer

Saturating myself in the senses awoken

away from all but these sights and sounds

gathering them in, focus

wrapping in the cold, in the silence,

in the smell of the balsam and pine,

and in the taste of the ice

Following the footfalls first of deer

then of vole and chipmunk

Watching the shape of stem and vine

of leaf and tree, frozen, dormant

the changed impressions of the land

under snow’s winter blanket

Losing time behind the lens

quiet in the forest, the clearing

deeper, deeper, away from home

Luxuriating in the quiet

the simplicity, the peace

of that time and place

Edited November 17, 2013

A Field of Scat – v2

1/1/06 17:45

A Field of Scat

http://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2006/01/field-of-scat.html

North Conway, NH, at least 6 years earlier

(with photo in original post)

All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 26,510+ of my poems at www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.