The hard wood spits

Ran down the slope

Visible now as the mist

Burnt off just

Remaining now in the hollows

Above head level

The dark earth still damp

Clinging to the auger

Water seeping into the holes

My dry as a bone steaming

As I sat leaning against the tree

To eat

She sat on the low branch

Just above my eye level

A hand span away

We spent a lot of time together

Perched on my mirror

While slashing

Diving on the flushed field mice

Dropped in on the Friday Barbies

For a snag

Or like now

Accompanied me fencing

All the holes I dug

Produced a wealth of worms

She was old and a bit ragged

The wind lifted her mottled coat

But her eyes were fierce still

Very focused

As we sat quietly

She returned the favour

Regurgitating some worms

Dropping them

Between my legs



1 Comment

Filed under Poetry

One response to “Companion

  1. Res

    I love this one Ben. There is a certain magic in this!

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