The Woodlot’s Gift of Peace

I walk along the well-worn path
Silently among the trees.
Calmness settles in my heart
As I listen to the branches
Whisper in the breeze.

There in the distance stands the doe –
Stately, still, and head held high.
A mother’s protective stance
While her fawns linger in the brush nearby.

The weathered tree trunk beckons me
To stop and sit for a while,
I hug my knees and look up high –
A gossamer of sunlight’s grace
Falling from the sky.

The seagulls’ distant squawking
Means it’s time to go.
The woodlot’s gift of peace
Has recomposed my soul.


I wrote this poem in response to Charli Mills’ February 10th Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction Challenge. In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story about wild spaces.

19 thoughts on “The Woodlot’s Gift of Peace

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  1. This is absolutely beautiful, Kate. I felt I was walking in that sheltered glade. Your rhythm is calming and your descriptions beautiful. I especially like “A gossamer of sunlight’s grace
    Falling from the sky”. I haven’t heard sunlight described that way before and the image is very fitting. I also like your choice of “recompose” my soul. That has a certain magic to it, a total renewal. It reminds me of the quote about never stepping into the same river twice. Your poem says that we would never be the same after stepping into such woodlot. “The same you never steps into the woodlot twice”. Your poem is much more eloquent, Kate. 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thanks Charli! I’m glad I was able to capture the calm cadence of a walk through the woods. We have quite a few woodlots around here and since I’m also by the sea – it’s the seagulls squawk that awakens anyone out of their revelry.

      Liked by 1 person

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