Arbour Poem by Justin Reamer

I walk along the trees,
In the sweet summer,
When all is warm and bright,
And all creatures sing in the distance,
For there is nothing to fear.
Birds sing their melodious tunes,
And deer walk quietly among the bushes.
Frogs croak in the ponds
And toads make their resounding guttural noise
Coming from the base of their throat.
The ducks swim around the pond,
Searching for their food,
And the geese swim,
Guarding their young,
As one major family.

As dusk comes about,
The forest gets darker,
And my eyes begin to adjust to the night,
And more creatures come out,
The nocturnal ones that one sees.
The owl hoots as the night progresses,
Calling if anyone can hear him.
The coyotes and the wolves
Howl at the moon,
Asking it to mourn their troubles,
Mourning their woes and their troubles, as well.
Crickets chirp in the grass,
Making beautiful songs for all to hear.
A skunk skitters by me,
Paying no attention to my presence
As I stood there watching it.
A moose looks at me,
And wonders what I am doing,
And then goes about its business.
Rabbits rush past me,
Trying to make it into their den,
And the fox chases them,
Looking for its evening meal.
The porcupine goes about its own business,
And makes sure that it is safe,
And mice squeak as they rush past me,
Knowing it is okay
To be where they are.

I walk around all night,
And soon dawn comes about,
And then I go home,
To where I can sleep,
And get some rest.

I come back to the forest in the winter,
When I have progressed through the business of life,
And I see snow has covered all the trees,
And the trees' branches are bare,
With no leaves covering them at all,
Except for the conifers,
Such as the pines and the spruces,
And the firs and the elms,
Which keep their needles throughout the year.
There is no song which the birds sing,
And the pond is frozen over.
Fish probably swim throughout it,
But the frogs have disappeared,
Going into hibernation.
The geese and the ducks migrated,
Long ago in autumn,
In which many people call ‘fall, '
And the deer are not present, either,
Anywhere to be seen.
Raccoons walk around,
Scrounging for food,
As do opossums,
And the occasional white-tailed deer.
There are no bears from what I could see,
For they are in a long rest,
Waiting to be awakened.
Songbirds fly around,
Looking for whatever food they can find,
Which is very unlikely.
The air is cold,
And the snow is brisk,
For everything is frozen from what I can see,
For all the trees have snow and icicles
Hanging upon their branches,
And ice covers the ground I walk on.
There are no insects buzzing past my ear,
For the mosquitoes are gone,
Fruitflies and deerflies,
Horseflies and spiders,
And the butterflies,
The dragonflies,
And the bumblebees are all gone,
For they have all passed,
And others are dormant for the winter.
The arbour is silent,
And I cannot here a sound,
Except for the voice of my own thoughts,
Which I hear constantly whispering,
As I think to myself in this winter wasteland
I see here in front of me.
The winter is like solitude,
For nothing is hear but me,
And no one dares walk out here but I,
In which I can see no one else,
And it is as silent as death,
For everything is lifeless,
Barren and desolate,
And the morose raven caws during the day,
As it takes the souls of its fellow animals,
That of animalia,
Away to their afterlife,
And Death,
As morbid and morose as he is,
Takes the lives of the Aged,
And fears no one but his own solitude,
But he does his duty, anyhow,
And he fulfils it in whatever means necessary.

I stand here,
And I know it is not my time to die,
But I wonder how the others are,
The ones who sat here in the spring,
Who lived a livelihood,
And now are gone with it.
I know not what happened to them,
But I know that things have changed,
And life changes inevitably,
And I know it will always go on.

One day, I will die,
And I will have
To face the fact,
But it is not my time yet,
Even as the absence of life
Sends chills down my spine,
For the aged are gone,
Childhood over,
Adolescence askew,
And adulthood goes on,
And I know not what Death
Has done here.
But, I will move on with life,
And will live to see another day,
For Death has not come for me yet.
I know I will live on.

I walk back to my house,
And seek the warmth of my fire,
And I go to sleep to wake to another day,
Continue the business of life,
And then come back here to reflect in the summer,
Where life will return at once.