An old wooden fence still stands
in a meadow of wildflowers,
high on an alpine hill
where once a little cabin stood.
The smell of honeysuckle seeps into the wood
where the bush covers the fence here and there,
above the meadow a majestic snow-capped mountain
nourishes the meadow and valleys below
with cyrstal clear waters in bubbling brooks
and a rushing creek which giggles over large rocks
not far from the wooden fence.
The old wooden fence asked the rushing creek,
“Do you think there might be a day
when someone will build a cabin here again?”
“Oh, no,” said the creek. “It cannot be.
No one will live here again. It is too far away
from the valleys below and no one will see
a sign of a cabin which stood,
and gardens that grew,
and life in another time.”
Then in the cold winter the old wooden fence
laid down and died at last,
as the wildflowers lovingly spread more seeds,
and the honeysuckle grew more roots and branches
to protect the fence, as only old friends can.
© 2020 Phyllis Doyle Burns
This poem was inspired by “A Lilac Bush and an Apple Tree” written and sung by Kate Wolf. Many years ago I often went to little coffee shops where Kate Wolf performed. My friends and I loved her style and her beautiful songs.
For more works by this author see Phyllis Doyle Burns Author Page
- Dark Halls of Times Past - August 28, 2020
- An Old Wooden Fence and a Rushing Creek - July 30, 2020
- Bigfoot, Popelick Monster, and Dead Lover: From Spinner’s Tales - July 13, 2020