from Enfield lock

The abandoned arts and crafts hut

The empty estate expansive 

Blown out by the showers

Unquestionably the day time trippy eeriness

Aura of emptiness and anti-depressants

Hangs in the air like a fat burg

A rainbow plays across a river

Funeral lights glow from inside stained-glass windows 

In the church at high beech

Cars line the woody verge

Everything flows through the arts café hut

It is an endowment of Pan and the sublime wood

Magpies and fungi guard the threshold

What secrets do the woodland dwellings conceal

What massive deviance requires so much room

Guarded behind twenty-four-hour surveillance

Buzzard cry buzzard fly wing span casts a shadow

Over slaughterhouse bungalows

Tread carefully up Avey Lane

To begin the return to the heart of the beech

Warm damp autumn conditions 

Are ideal for fungi

The arts café sublime decay

Decoy and magisterial entry point into

Underground networks beneath the forest floor

Spores soak upwards

The tea hut 

Maintains its trippy essence

As dog walkers haunt the periphery.