I walk with the girls this time
We leave the boys behind
Safe in the house
And we go once again
Just us
Like it was a long time ago
Springtime memories of the first
Tentative
Beginnings of single motherhood
He left at Christmas
By when the first buds began to open
We were a coven
My little Coven of women
Ready to step out
Into the bright
Bare
Bold
Beautiful
World
And see what was out there
Nearly two years
Two cycles of the Sun
Around our sacred Earth
We played and learned
And sang and ran
Me and my girls
And my dog
Now the abundant wild garlic
Empowers us
I remember
Perhaps they do not
They were very young
Innocent and unknowing
Its scent and sharpness
takes me back to the glade
Lost between fields
Where we grew up in safety
Me and my girls
We had an Ash
Whose trunk was a saddle
The Oak
Whose body was Grandfather
The meandering
Raging beck
Whose bed was rarely the same from one month
To the next
Over the railway track
And into the dappled Grove
We ran
And Sang
And picked wild garlic
And waited for Summer
Nwyfre 
This is so moving and evocative. I thought of your walk down through the woods and how the children ( very small then)- one on your back sometimes) knew the names of trees and flowers, and how that has stayed with them always in their connection with Nature. It is a sacred gift. A beautiful poem.
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