Prue’s Patch

is far, far away,

Hundreds of miles

north of the city

(and a great deal

farther from my home

in the California desert );

We drove four an a half hours

from the city of Niagara,

to reach the old road

that leads deep

into the woods;

Finally , we came to a

clearing and

here was a cabin,

surrounded  by trees.

two old apple trees grow


The only sound you hear

is that of the wind

rustling through the treetops.

Remnants of an old settlement

can be found here and here,

and traces of a barn

and some horse shoes.

it’s quiet and isolated;

one marvels at the solitude

and soft chirp of birds in the trees.

Walking in the woods in the morning,

we’d find traces of deer and bear

visitors in the night. My friend Sharon,

the owner of Prue’s patch, is undeterred

by  the traces of nighttime visitors and perhaps

a little annoyed by her city visitor’s reluctance

to venture too far from the cabin.  But, on the other

hand, I am completely at ease, sitting by a window,

sipping tea and  writing poetry in my notebook.

Prue’s Patch provides much inspiration.

It also reminded me of the wooded areas all around

my childhood home in Cincinnati, where my brothers,

girlfriend Patty and our younger brothers visited the

nearest woods with picnic lunches in the summer time

and other woods close to my grandmother’s home, where

my cousin and I explored on summer days. We had such


Thank you, Sharon, for the visit of a lifetime.

This one’s for you.


Sandra Lee Smith

originally composed, August  2009,

Updated July 11, 2018

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