peter (09/21/82)
FRIENDS
Peter J. Burke
The sunlight, filtered by the leaves o'rehed
Descends in shafts to light a bed of ferns.
Beside a log that's covered green with moss,
May-apples now have lost their gloss, and droop.
Two red squirrels frisk about in last year's leaves,
And, spying me, sneak off like thieves to hide.
I search these woods in quiet solitude
For simple thoughts and the joyful mood found here.
A gurgling brook with leaves among the stones;
And there, a daisy patch enthrones a pool
Where sunlight found a way to tunnel through
To warm the earth and change the hue of leaf.
The birds are calling out to mark their space,
To call their mates, and keep a place called home.
And, hearing them, I like to think that they
Are singing trills to make my day fulfilled.
A butterfly came rambling through the air,
And sat upon a daisy fair and gold;
Reminding me of Frost's "The Tuft of Flowers."
I sat and pondered 'neath the bowers overhead.
"Men work together," so he wrote with art,
"Whether . . . together or apart." It's true.
And then a thought took hold of me, which I
Found comforting and so let fly to you.
"Friends live together in each other's core,
Whether they live together or apart."
A simple thought which brought a joyful mood;
These woods have not the solitude they had.