Still in the lists
Used when absolutely
When did you last utter it?
Like the object itself
When it’s a problem
I feel like a chimney
Brushed by crowded, swaying ferns
The scent of warm loam arises
Silence reigns, no birdsong rings
Signs missed by the men approaching
With their plunder they blunder along
Beneath the high arched canopy
And a new scent mingles with forest smells
fear and anticipation
Smooth and straight and true the shaft
Hard the piercing point
Today the plunder will be reclaimed
The price repaid in blood
Together, in silence, we draw our bows
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