NEW LIFE

Helpless September
overgrown with ferns
and greensward elder
heaving with song birds
along Walden pond
a salty sea voice admits us
to hold on to my bicycle
for a new life
not caring who laughs
from the woodland
at our buried secrets,
artifacts, lovers lane,
nor blush at the breeze
when sleeping on caresses
in the clearing meadow
by the dunes light shadow
along cranberry bogs
by mildew roads
we are in nobody lands
among a forest's
haze of leaves
as four gulls overhead
with high pitched soundings
cover the tall grass,
squirrels and garter snakes
wound by pine tree trunks
a poet makes a hammock
and reads Thoreau.