The Black Wood

 

I smell you
the black wood
pulse of subsonic desire
the white stones
and wet pine
blurry shadows with yellow eyes
with dog breath

I awake to the scent like a song
cold wind just above the water
a morning fog
his majesty in velvet crown
with birdsong calls the sun to rise

I hear you
in hot hymnal
breath from the black wood
that alluring edge of whispers
tangled roots
footprints where silent the wraiths passed
silence to usher me awake
heart throbbing
the blood in me stiff
struggling to gain air
to tie my boots and start marching.

TA