Climbingwood

from my 2nd book inspired by local myths and legends
Themes of myths and stories, local history, human condition


In a climbing wood
on a lonely watch,
as the lightning
pens violent calligraphy
on my skin,
flickering heartbeats of light
flash a figure up, black,
and running towards me.

A shadow like a map,
of branches and veins,
and in that moment
what’s fact or figment
no longer matters, he’s here
and I hail him as a friend.

For we run here sometimes
in a birdless silence,
where purpose is obscure
and company hard to come by
and worse than ghosts
is eternity,
with no ghosts.