The Cabin

A poem

I could live in the cabin

With the antlers above the door

Wake up to birdsong

Light the fire in the evenings

Watch the sunset over the peaks

And I could unplug the computer

Close the bank account

Burn the papers

Watch the clouds drift by

There is time now

And when winter comes

I would wade through snow

Fight the cold and the dark

Curse the seasons

Eat from tins when nothing grows

Maybe skin a deer out of desperation

And in my chosen isolation

I would forget about the birdsong

Wishing for summer to come again

Or those moments

When I exchanged greetings with a neighbour

In the village I no longer live in