BEYOND SPITE INN (haiku)
Cuckoo echoes cuckoo
Beyond Spite Inn
The road rises into cloud
This valley folds the green road
Rain drips from the copper beech
Grass bends over tumbled walls.
On Brynffo the spirits drift
Light as thistledown between the firs.
The sound of running water is their voice.
On Esgair Fwyog the sheep graze new grass.
The rain has melted distance.
A line of hills rest in sunlight
A sunlit hill.
Clouds shift.
It melts in rain.
Sound of running water
The steep slopes of Brynffo
Pine needles and the smell of bracken
Moving waters whispering
Lost in the dark forest
Whisps of mist drift aimless
Enjoying cool silence.
—
simonhlilly 
Twice i tried to comment to this and it doesn’t work!
Seems to be now!…
Wanted to say thanks for the poem. A serendipitous reminder it was.