A bank of garlic

A bank of garlic in the rain
took me aback.

I only came to see
where the path goes,
to look for signs of spring
and anything moving in the trees.

I only came to listen
to unseen birdsong
and a wee stream
dropping a few feet over boulders.

I only came to feel
the deep ridged oak bark
where the ivy climbs aloft,
to feel rocks beneath my feet
and the dampness seeping
in these old boots.

I came to wonder
and look for signs of spring,
when a bank of garlic in the rain
took me aback.