September Blog

Borderland

 

The air was different tonight

teasing us beyond the city

ghost-walking abandoned streets,

of bottles, boxes and bones rattling at the edges

to the tethered whine of a starving dog.

 

We walked on in silence.

 

As the city faded behind us

step and breath found their rhythm.

We carried its fire-blackened stones in our hearts,

each a memory of where we once belonged

because we knew nothing else.

 

We would walk till words returned.

 

On the third night we found a forest.

Stepping into its green-scented darkness

we removed our boots to feel cool

mosses creep between our toes.

Touching . . . a snail shell? . . . a fallen cone?

 

We remembered familiar textures of once living things.

 

The forest floor woven with feathers, dried fern,

and night-scented plants we failed to name.

We lay down, peering up through

the tree-canopy at slices of sky

granulated with stars.

 

Fox-gloved sleep stole us at last.

 

A moth settled, to sparkle on your cheek,

it stirred when you opened your eyes

as dawn shivered with birdsong

Words formed. Hesitant at first . . .

 

‘Listen’

 

‘We will be safe here’