Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Down in the woods.

I'm feeling a bit like the poor man's Emily Dickenson today.
I do apologise. Anyway;- d'jever have one of those dreams where you're in an enormous north european forest?...and you know that night is falling....and you're lost and off the path, and fear is driving you forward a little bit faster than you know is safe and you're almost bracing yourself for the sound of your ankle breaking....


Oh it must be just me then:

Scramble on, blind from sweat, or blind from tears,

‘Twill make no difference if you break your neck,

and smash your body, break and rend and wreck,

your twisted form, to lie frozen for years,

in this dark place of silence; no thing nears,

and no-body will come this deep to check,

if pain or perspiration cleft your trek,

and made you stumble here among these firs,

and lie out broken on the boulders white,

bare bones that mark the glacier's torn road,

The headstones of an ancient cemetery.

No. Wipe your eyes, for you are losing light.

and can’t look back to see the night erode,

the fading blossom from the Cherry tree.

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