(no subject)
Long steps on the hard road
are softened by the trees.
And thoughts are quieted
in the secrets of gnarled limbs.
The world shut out,
mind tucked in,
legs just now running in sweat.
A chill reaches out from the creek-bed,
and touches a clammy shoulder,
as it rocks with step and breath.
There is a shiver on the neck,
that slides cross the back,
and rests neatly on the scalp.
In the heart the guilt is unjust,
though the head disagrees.
The forest is the only wall,
and it would be traveled,
save for the rust-wire fence.
And in the morning-time,
windows are quietly closed.
In the night the thoughts come back,
and linger on and on:
His distaste for himself and,
the sin of trapping the other in and more out.
are softened by the trees.
And thoughts are quieted
in the secrets of gnarled limbs.
The world shut out,
mind tucked in,
legs just now running in sweat.
A chill reaches out from the creek-bed,
and touches a clammy shoulder,
as it rocks with step and breath.
There is a shiver on the neck,
that slides cross the back,
and rests neatly on the scalp.
In the heart the guilt is unjust,
though the head disagrees.
The forest is the only wall,
and it would be traveled,
save for the rust-wire fence.
And in the morning-time,
windows are quietly closed.
In the night the thoughts come back,
and linger on and on:
His distaste for himself and,
the sin of trapping the other in and more out.