Sunday, January 22, 2023

Lost in the Woods

Beyond the walls of Tintagel, 
The air, the rain
Spur on thy horse
Lean, give head the rein.

Fly! As though a thousand demons
Flank thee, legion wolves 
Assail. Specks of sleet slap
Wetly cheeks and breast both
Chilling bones and flesh.

Good steed heaves, falters,
A hoof can bear so much only.
Dismount and lead, still quickly 
In the dark and dim. How to home 
Beating foot to sodden ground while
Heart in ribs caged, bounding.

What will become of this?

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