A jumble of thoughts written whilst i sat in a forest.
|If we salvaged every single dead leaf
Then what would cover the forest floor
From mud, and clay and dust, and rocks
And fragments of branch the wind has torn
If we were to collect
All leaf debris, and save
It in our cupboards
For a rainy day
Would we find more fossils
Which once lurked beneath
And gasped, exhausted from breath
From the vast, greying, pyramid o’ leaf
Would the forest become silent?
Absent, noiseless, from its loss
Of crunchy old leaves, which it carpeted down
And we took, cruelly, would nature be cross?