" MAN OF THE WOODS"


 Born quite a distance from civilized land, 
 This man was,

 In this place, these surroundings of still and 
 Quiet lives he.

 Immense sort of a man bearded with scraggly hair,


 Hunts for that which he eats, gun or knife 
 In hand has he,

 In weather hostile or friendly he makes his way, 
 Survives.

 Cabin built of wood Is where this loner 
 Dwells in silence,

 Content to be In this place without another 
 Soul for company.

 Whittling wood or the harmonica played Is a 
 Passion of a man alone,

 Fish that have been caught In a stream near by, 
 Fried up for dinner.

 Eating next to a fire that takes the chill from the 
 Night as he thinks,

 On the porch settles this soul who exists In 
 Solitude, enjoying the night.

 Not so complete without the puff of smoke from his 
 Tobacco filled pipe

 As he speaks goodnight to all around, all that lives, 
 He's off to slumber,

 Who he Is matters' not, man of the woods, farewell.


                   Keith Garrett