2002 Poetry

amble on the chunk

careful to prick a plant

this ground

with occasional sand

seemed smooth

on the sole

you feel a slight knead

on your hovering soul

and then

out of the blue

--soft soil hauls you

dragging your feet

down underneath

you look around

there isn’t any one

only you and your mind

promenading the flat land

slow pace modified into haste

hip level --you shriek for aid

still to your dismay no one came  

tall trees echoing your scream

for your life wanting to be redeemed

neck level --you remain screaming

hoping for a chance passer by

would hear your adamant cry

still no one came

to leap right to your face

crown level --your silence prevailed

and there buried unwillingly

untraced, silencing the air

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