Civilized

past the
fresh turned up dirt
of plowed field,
the trees beckon.

beneath their shadow
lies the challenge.

what fears lurk beyond?

Moon,
bright and beautiful,
caresses you
with a phantom touch:
soothingly magical,
but
not
really
here.

what fears lurk within?

i turn,
compelled by the acrid
pull of the hearth.
to drink my tea,
and dream.

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 )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google 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 )

Connecting to %s