Night Walk

NIGHT WALK

Lights on chintz curtains behind glass Feel the windows’ warm glow as we pass Smoke drifts from the tall chimney stack Drawing us in, drawing us back

Hands in mittens, hats on heads, warm scarves We follow some familiar paths To the woods, by the woods there’s a trail And the crispest air there to inhale

Some pheasants scatter startled and scared A rabbit bounds by perhaps a hare A late tractor out ploughing stubble fields Night birds swoop on the pickings revealed

As the resting day puts up its heels With owlish hoots, rustles and squeals The winter moon casts its soft shadows Badgers and foxes leave their burrows

Picking up dead branches from the floor For kindling under logs we have sawn Fallen from trees, tired from the burden Of leaves, wind and nest-building birds

On we press with the mumbling of speech Misty clouds full of words, as we speak Or sometimes we’ll stroll without talking Enjoying the pleasure of just walking

The night walk is a country tradition A brief foray then return, re-admission To the warmth of the living room hearth Ruddy cheeked now, time for a bath

Feel the warmth of the paraffin heater An Aladdin giving moist fragrant heat A shuttle of kettles bring wet fire To toes, that cools as it seeps higher

Rubbed down and robed, we might play Word games like scrabble some days Toast bread on toasting forks by the fire Listen to the radio for a while

Later, close-by, but upstairs, all tucked in With a hot water bottle, below thin voices Some laughter - grown-ups holding forth While I drift off full of wonder, lost in thought