Poem 12

Chapter 12: Initiation


Next place,


Running and running

Gray-green skies

Tan dead grass

Scraggly trees.


Never night

Never morning’s light

Always hazy early evening.


A well, a tree.

Walk on.

A well, a tree.

Walk on.

A well, a tree.


I laugh and laugh.

Behind me, something snaps.

My prince stumbles


Half-rotting chest,

Maggot-filled eyes.


A mirage or truth?

The thing lunges.

Run, run, run.

No progress.

No sense of fright.

This thing may consume me.


Like a dream, no sound

No movement

Except the progress of the beast.


I swing

A fallen branch.

The beast vanishes.


By the well,

An old woman laughs.

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