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The devil walked the woods this morning

Drifting through the mist

Pleased with his deeds

He sighed a serpents hiss

The barren grounds and snowless winters brought him a wry smile

Decayed remains of long dead spruce were strewn about in piles

He strode aside the oil-sheen dressed woodland lake shores

The songless birds lay rotten

Silent for ever more

The level fields of decaying stumps

He smiled at his work

And when he'd gloated long enough

He made a left hand-turn

To head for home and rest his bones

By fires gentle light

And dream of wastelands putrescent

Destroyed by his sight

He cursed the evening loon calls that rose him from his sleep

And the joyous side of autumn meek

He could never seek

He stumbled up the cobble stones to his cabin door

When inside kicked off his boots all muddied on the floor

Passed the mirror in the hall

A familiar sight to see

A face he'd known for oh so long

And the reflection it was me