I know Surrey’s sand &
root-ridges underfoot –
mute beech trees [also
taken] –
road signs aim
at a once-visited town –
this is my hinterland &
time-of-fallen ground –
we circled each history
with careful words in a
managed wood – avoid
all kinds of falls –
warm under sunlight’s
kiss in clearings – moth-
confusion kicked up as
we stepped –
these minutes aren’t to
end – time is an undone
knot meant to hold fast
passings –
we parted [& I drove off
on re-filled pot holes to
Uckfield] – I am an auld
Surrey man – still – I am