This wooden wall
was here in Hegel’s time.
He had its ear.
He would have carved out
a conversation then,
rested his tired head,
drunk time.
The punter here today
tells us strangers this.
He’s proud of the local boy,
Georg Wilhelm Friedrich the woodsman,
and of the wood,
dark with ages,
that has lived
to tell you
the truth.
KEITH ARMSTRONG
