A Conversation in the Wood

By Cliff Lake

 

A Conversation in the Wood

 

“Green Man, Green Man, teach me the dance of trees.”

I am but a remembrance, brought here by a breeze.

“Green Man, Green Man, your wisdom I would learn.”

Then listen to the Songs of Rain, if you can discern.

“Green Man, Green Man, what does the robin sing?”

Promises of flowers, though he plants nothing.

“Green Man, will you not show your face?”

I fear you would be overcome and never leave this place.

“Green Man, Green Man, how long will winter be?”

A season’s length as always, Mother and I agree.

“Green Man, Green Man, do you herald Spring?”

This time of year, the West Wind brings her offering.

“Green Man, Green Man, you answer so unclear.”

I must reflect what the weather is at this time of year.

“Green Man, Green Man, when will it finally warm?”

I fear that you should get inside, it’s about to storm.

“Green Man, Green Man, will you come when called?”

I’m afraid that I must hurry North; ask for me next Fall.

 

Cliff Lake 3/11/2023

Copyright © Clifford Lake 2023

 

Location: Dalton, MA, USA

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