Walking through familiar woods
I find my slumbering self
alone with a cricket song –
a quiet soundtrack adding
to the crunch of twigs
beneath my feet,
to the rhythmic thoughts
thumping through my head
and racing heart.
(What am I supposed to do with a life like this?)
Bare feet break through
the topmost layer of crisp decay
sinking into molding rot that
squishes through pale toes and
filthy fire red lacquer.
(The future as I know it is gone.)
Only the past remains the same
eternally haunting memory
lingering behind my shoulder,
whispering in my ear
as I’m left wandering a
slumbering twilight path,
wondering if a clearing is near enough
to reach before night falls,
before silence falls,
before all that’s left
is me and the
low hum of photons
drifting through a starless universe.
Renee Novosel
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Copyright 2014