Hocking

Bring back hedgerows
Lost in echoes
Found in shadows
Gone like sparrows
Where do roots go?
What do birds know?
Why the elbow?
Who goes there?
How now?

Yes, no, maybe
It’s all gravy
More haste, less speed
Like an oak tree
Sweet pea tendrils
Creeping scent filled
Wafting slowly
Over you and I