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 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