I smelled smoke in the evening air
walked the way as every day
birch leaves crisp and yellow
pine greens and ginger larch.
I stepped the ditch
not trusting the simple bridge
and saw the chimney smoking
to the east from whence I came.
Through the doorless doorway
entered uninvited,never thought to ask.
no door,not for many a year
neither was there window frames.
It was then I saw the candle flicker
on the tree-trunk table,
clay beaker steaming tea.
I quickly turned to leave the hut
felt I was not alone
but a door slammed shut,
never there before, I could not leave
my dog nowhere to be seen.
Again I turned, logs burning in the hearth
orange flame and blackened kettle
saw him sucking on a pipe,
sitting in a Clun-back chair
made from green-wood,bent by calloused hands,
through the spider web of years,
He did not speak; nor I.
He seemed to know me,
we had never met or so I thought
The two who leaned the wall I knew
from another time; lovers from the war
I had intruded once before,
caught them making love one late afternoon
envied their delight.
Had he all these years
shared his home.....why not?
I should leave but could not;
the logs burning in the fire,
were not consumed the candle grew no shorter.
for one brief moment,the old man seemed alive
the lovers warm and smiling,
heavy coats held close,
loved again,as once I saw.
When had they met,these three?
nowhere else to live; nowhere else to go.
I was out of place their world was not of mine;
they turned and stared, held out their hands,
pleading or was it welcome?
faded in the candle light;
a door behind creaked open,
the fresh cool woodland air welcome,
my watch resumed its vigil,
a village clock rang six,
one last glance and they were gone,
as was the chimney smoke.