Sometimes at night
In the fading light
It does come back to me
Where a log cabin stood deep in the woods
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Hi, Nick. I enjoyed this. The joys of not being tied to the clock (and the last three lines of stanza 2 are a great way of saying this): appreciation of food (bacon, trout and tea): and the sweet tiredness of coming back from a day's fishing then sleeping in your fishing clothes. The log cabin and the bush. Reading your poem roused some similar memories and brought me on a lovely visit there.
U R A FIVE POINTER POET ALL UR POEMS ARE GOOD WE WILL READ THEM U DO OURS TOO