G Emil Reutter, July 2013

Urban Woodlands

Entering the West Woodlands across the road from the grassy picnic

area just past a bench sleeping in the afternoon sun, two paths: a cinder

one ropes around the woods and a dirt path snakes through trees and

underbrush into a small valley, where a no name brook eases its way out

of the city.

Under nature’s quilt of foliage, chipmunks, robins, a lone deer, who

trots off upon approach. An abandoned hunter’s lean-to sits just above

 in a sycamore whose skin is peeling. Just across the brook in a clearing

a rope swing hangs in the air like an unfinished spider web swaying in

wind. A hawk rides currents; an old fireplace encased in stone with man’s

quilt of empty beer cans, cigarette butts and graffiti scared trunks.


At the top of a ridge, he sits in a canvass chair, large black bible on his lap

flips pages in his loneliness, offers tracts to people passing by. Sits here for

 hours each day under trees canopies, reads his bible and returns to his row

home when the sun descends the sky. He doesn’t explore the woodlands

this old man has found his spot.



g emil reutter lives and writes in the Fox Chase neighborhood of Philadelphia, Pa. He can be found athttp://gereutter.wordpress.com/ and www.gemilreutter-author.com

Promote. Poetry.
FacebookTwitterGoogle+PinterestBlogger PostTumblrGoogle GmailLineYahoo MailRediff MyPageKindle ItGoogle BookmarksShare