A mist laden emotion
Stems from the barks
Of that old knobbly tree,
That forgot to breathe
After its last autumn...
It beats,
Like the heart
Of a whimpering pigeon,
Caught in its stealthy act,
While satiating its hunger
In an unknown land....
I have floated on clouds before...
And taken a drink,
From the depths of the sea...
Without a single hold
Hindering my fall
Off that rugged cliff....
But the seething temptation
Of surrendering once more....
To the foolish games
Of catching this glow worm,
In the death of this night....
Draws me again
To hunt down your smell...
In the blotted horizon
Of unyielding forests...
Where the crickets never forget
To haunt me,
With their songs of the dusk...
Compelling me to stop
In my hesitant path....
To turn around
And give in...
To yet another last glance...
Is anyone there....?
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