I Walk in the Wood

I walk in the wood
Wishing to keep away
From the fray.

The birds up above
Have something meaningful to say.
Whilst angry crowds,
(Elsewhere, in street and square)
Shout to loud
And call
For everything to fall.

It is easy to smash
And trash
That which you do not understand.

Macbeth’s idiot walks the land.
And, in his tale of sound and fury
There is no room for a more nuanced story.

Maybe I should
Stay in the wood
And write poetry.

But those who know
And love
Their country
Can not see
It brought low,
By those who do not know.

7 thoughts on “I Walk in the Wood

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