Suburban Forest

Past ancient trees where once the King’s hunt rode,
Low sunshine filters through to forest paths
Here fat geese paddle still and royal swans glide,
Around a lake man-made two centuries past.

Through freshly fallen leaves, crisp underfoot,
Scampering squirrels scatter from my dogs.
Through leaves not churned yet into muddy ruts
By cycles, turning bridle paths to bogs.

Undaunted by such amateur pursuit
Rats slink through undergrowth; the water moves. 
Their squirrel cousins watch us from the trees.
Beneath them, tracks of wheels instead of hooves.
Two centuries hence, will this place still be here?
And will mankind survive to hold it dear?



Can you guess where I am?

15 thoughts on “Suburban Forest

  1. It’s the urban end of Epping Forest where it reaches into the East London suburbs. Somehow the leaves feel browner and crunchier than anywhere else. 🙂 Thanks for reading.


  2. I didn’t know where you were from the pictures. The comments helped! LOL Great poem. Age old question as to what will be the same and what will be changed once we are gone. If it were in America, especially in the west, I would bet on change. In England, I couldn’t guess.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Well it’s getting pretty crowded over here… Some ancient forests and National Parks are protected by law, so lets hope that continues, but residential Greater London is literally over the fence from much of Epping Forest.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Society hasn’t found a solution for population growth, has it? Or for that matter wanting to get creative and build things. Once built, though, the ancient forests can’t be brought back.

        Liked by 1 person

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