There was still light filtering through the trees
And I thought if I could just keep heading
In that direction, I’d come to a road,
Or a train track, or some sign
Of human habitation. It was getting cold.
The crows were making a racket in the trees
As they settled in for the night. But where
Would I find shelter if I didn’t want to freeze?
In the gloom I had to admit
I was lost. The first rule of this new place
Where I’m staying is, it’s not permitted
To wander off on your own. But it’s been
A year since my wife died, I forget
Her name, and I wanted to find the inn
Where we first met and made love.
It was somewhere in these woods,
Down by the river, where the dove
Cooed, and we played havoc with the bedding.