It stuck out of the ground like a cross,
(maybe that's where he's buried?)
up to my head, barely moved with the coarse wind,
all the trees were naked, brittle, breakable with my palms,
gripping the stick it pricked me and I bled,
yanking, pulling, moving the mound of earth,
sweat dripped while the winter gales rumbled,
lifting it inch by inch as it clung to the soil with angst, purpose,
I cringed from the pain, fled to the empty blue mattress above,
it didn't want to leave, afraid of the outside,
wishing to be forever dug into this grave,
(eventually we're all moved)
thrown into a patch of dead leaves with the stick in my hand,
chest rising and falling like a tired tide,
a few red dots leaked onto the ground,
(nourishment for the past)
it helped me to my feet, offered me something to lean on,
with it I continued up the mountain,
a hapless smile broke across my dried lips,
thinking I may have found a friend.
(maybe that's where he's buried?)
up to my head, barely moved with the coarse wind,
all the trees were naked, brittle, breakable with my palms,
gripping the stick it pricked me and I bled,
yanking, pulling, moving the mound of earth,
sweat dripped while the winter gales rumbled,
lifting it inch by inch as it clung to the soil with angst, purpose,
I cringed from the pain, fled to the empty blue mattress above,
it didn't want to leave, afraid of the outside,
wishing to be forever dug into this grave,
(eventually we're all moved)
thrown into a patch of dead leaves with the stick in my hand,
chest rising and falling like a tired tide,
a few red dots leaked onto the ground,
(nourishment for the past)
it helped me to my feet, offered me something to lean on,
with it I continued up the mountain,
a hapless smile broke across my dried lips,
thinking I may have found a friend.
