I Go Down to the Woods
After Mary Oliver
Listen to Carole reading her poem ...
I go down to the woods in the morning
feeling sad, and the trees
don’t listen at all. They’re yawning
and waking up to the breeze,
the scent of bluebells, the rustle
of a rabbit in the grass
and I don’t move a muscle,
just feel my sadness pass.
feeling sad, and the trees
don’t listen at all. They’re yawning
and waking up to the breeze,
the scent of bluebells, the rustle
of a rabbit in the grass
and I don’t move a muscle,
just feel my sadness pass.
This poem is copyright (©) Carole Bromley 2024
About the Writer
Carole Bromley
Carole has won the Caterpillar Prize and had poems in Tyger, Tyger, The Toy, Paper Lanterns, Paperbound, Little Thoughts Press and Northern Gravy as well as in her collection, Blast Off! and anthologies from MacMillan, Nosy Crow and Emma Press. She does readings and workshops at festivals and in schools and in 2024 is tutoring courses on writing poetry for children at the Garsdale Retreat and for the Writing School online.
