The Hut

So warm today and calm
The wood seemed airless
No aeolian tunes today
Yesterday the music, violent,chilling
Echoed through the trees
Daring bird and pheasant.
I did not need the shelter of the hut
But called to say hello
He was not there
Won't be there again tomorrow
The hearth was cold and empty
The floor of earth....
(A common paving for the poor.
When dry as good as lino-tiles
Fork it over once a week
Rake it level.......a new floor once a week ,
I've seen it done)
Lay bare witness
To years uncounted
Fifty, seventy .More?
Who knows,.Who cares?
I do.
The door lay under leaves
Half rotted, rusty hinge,
Missed it yesterday
Poked about the floor
Found nothing worth a penny
But the frame was sound
The metal sheets held firm
As any grade two listed barn.
In a storm I'd shelter here,
Sleep sound and dream.
Why do I write this ?
There's a cathedral down the road,
A mansion in a park
Catalogued and dated
So why should this hovel,
Its work well done,
An old man, dead no doubt,
Who made his tea
And poached his supper
Pass into the future, forgot, ignored.
Remember this who read it,
When you weigh the earth,
Seek out each grain of sand.
I had no camera with me
I cannot draw
But my memory etched
I need no more
I'll not tell you where...
This place is mine to know
A place away from home
Where I can dream
Share with a dog,
Who loves as much as I
The silence on a day like this,