October 18, 2019Poem
Halloween tale
naturepolitics
Halloween tale
Is it too late
To arrest the fall
Reaching out
Flailing blindly
Searching for a purchase
Finding none.
In the darkness
Tied to a chair
We all share
The same fear
As walls close in
Smoothly sliding
Over hardwood
Pitching us forward
Into the abyss.
Wake me
It is not my dream
There is no way
To remove the binding
Held in place
To cover my escape
On the blindside.
What manner of
Nightmare is this
To have stolen
Me away
From all I have known
Perhaps we have
Each other
To rely on
If only we could
Find a way
Out of this enclosure.
Turn about
Take my hand
In yours
If we pull
Perhaps we will
Both slip free
Into the waking world
Where the rules
May be complex
But more or less
And at the very least,
They almost always
Stay the same