Page 76 - The Woven Tale Press Vol. IV #9
P. 76
67
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Down By Wild Water
Down by wild water,
under a thick pelt of night,
I fell prey to my past, thoughts caught in my throat, quivering, shivering down.
A ball of molten moon had fallen face first
into a silent, glassy lake, leaving a path of silver on the water, in its wake.
Memories pattern my way,
leaving their surface an oily ooze. They gather like trees in subversive meetings around water,
whispering dissent.
Slowly, metallic ripples widen, betraying underwater life,
as long forgotten images
float, unbidden to my eyes and show old treachery.
I must learn to forgive,
yet never forget the blows
that laid me so low. They were ‘friendly fire’ that came from home and made me homeless.
