Mine is Through the Thicket

A fork flays the road.

An offshoot course dawdles
In the infinite horizon,
The skies lit sapphiric blue
While a single cloud floats in
For a chat.

Down the second split,
Willows weeping golden
Strands cloak the path black
In the shadow of their limbs.
But the solid glow
Of a thousand lanterns’ fires
Leads you on and on
Down winding dirt trails.

But neither way
Is meant for me.
Mine is through the thicket,
The leaden dark,
Where the only hands
That dare touch your skin
Are those of the forest.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s