Mother and Child

Sitting next to me

as I dozed in the deckchair,

quietly with me.

Circles like ripples

appear behind my eyelids:

water is here too.

And in the wood

a wren’s bobbing and wagging

is fluidity.

Deer slots in the trail,

fern growing in a tree stump

wood spurge by the path.

You pointed them out

and you are with me again

as I see them now.

A doe and her fawn

treading the same path as ours

we follow their slots.