The Woods' Man

He was mostly made of sticks and leaves
And other forest features
We found him, rootless
A crow exploring his innards
We took him home, propped him up
In the warm leather armchair
And rearranged his crown
Of yellow and brown

He wasn't much of a talker
So we just listened to his rustling
Though a strange kind of wisdom
Seemed to emanate out
From his acorn eyes and almond brow
But when he was angry
His nostrils flared up
Like pinecones on fire

We loved him for his truth
Loved his down-to-earth ways
And how we breathed in
What he breathed out
A slow existence, symbiotic and silent
Where he breathed in
What we breathed out

We tried to dress him in silks and velvet
But he preferred to go au naturel
Which meant that any company invited round
Had to be warned just in case
Bare bark and depetaled flowers
Embarrassed our city friends
More used to plastic tulips
And paintings of trees

The second to worst day was when the dog got out
And wrestled him to the ground
Tore at his timber heart
And chewed on log limbs
We soothed the bite marks with walnuts
Rubbing the gashes until level
And only a slighter lighter shade
Than his autumn-tinged skin

We loved him for his truth
Loved his down-to-earth ways
And how we breathed in
What he breathed out
A slow existence
Symbiotic and silent
Where he breathed in
What we breathed out

And then lightning struck
Who knows if cigarette or candle
Or wall plug - but with backs turned
He was gone
Black flakes stained the couch
While embers cried then cooled
We put him on the compost heap
Though our youngest kept a twig
A shrivelled sprout
Pointing downwards in a glass jar

We loved him for his truth
Loved his down-to-earth ways
And how we breathed in
What he breathed out
A slow existence
Symbiotic and silent
Where he breathed in
What we breathed out

We loved him for his truth
Loved his down-to-earth ways
And how we breathed in
What he breathed out
A slow existence
Symbiotic and silent
Where he breathed in
What we breathed out