following

King’s Meadow

Leaves falling down

across the path

birds flying overhead

green is the grass

brown are the trees

squirrels climbing high

branches hanging low

crows in the air

then on the ground

windy weather all around

When I look out towards the hills

I feel a sense of loss

Abandoned places in ruin

A pathway leads

Towards the mountain

Where I will not follow

what is that I could hear
in the hedgerow
but hiding from me was
a blackbird in the brambles

thinking back on it now
seem silly she’d be following me
but at that time
it was just her and me