Fresh Woods and Pastures

Sometimes, having had a surfeit of human society and gossip, and worn out all my village friends, I rambled still farther westward than I habitually dwell, into yet more unfrequented parts of the town, "to fresh woods and pastures new," or, while the sun was setting, made my supper of huckleberries and blueberries on Fair Haven Hill, and laid up a store for several days. - Thoreau, Walden



To fresh woods and pastures new my mind wanders as I contemplate the view
from my window. This window, this room, a life that is no longer new
as it was many years ago when I first moved to this place.

What vistas are there, in and beyond the woods and pastures I conjure
with my mind? Conjuring, thinking, viewing inward I seem inured
to the quotidian events of daily life.

The images of these scenes become the source of sustenance
for the future of my dwelling in this life. They enhance
the day even as the sun sets on my existence.


(New Poems, 2008)


Here it stands: A poem, poetic thought, rambling draft for a future poem.