Monday

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Outrageous in its extremism

This one no license granted

By some authority

By some wilderness code

No, not this one

Grew to be a rescuer

Now in need of rescuing

Yet none mouth to ask

Nor hearers to listen

No door to open

Or hands to receive

Disappearing as a giant

In an ancient forest

In plain sight

Lifeless, anyway

Struck by lightning

Too many times

Lost Sheep

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How long this long walking?

Threshold in illusion’s sight,

Always the cause to stop,

Back track,

Look.

Endless days unfed.

Endless night sleeping,

But in a foreign, unholy land.

No pasture after all, perhaps?