26th March 2009

In slight gloom.
In mild selfishness.
It’s only my heart.
In a spot of yellow and rectangles of brown
     I run through one with windows.
Through the glass, clouds.
Through the clouds, a sky.
And through a sky, the patches of light
     in illuminant grey.

So will I keep going, or will I stop?
Will I get lost;
     lose my way and know that I went
     alongside the knowledge of one but my own?
If patterned walls and rugged trees dot the
     landscape of my fears, and lonely clouds and
     a running fence can
     ease the barren of amity –
     if anything but you is here,
     if everyone talks and tells me what they know
     then will I drop and fall,
     or will you tell me where to turn;
Will you tell me how to save me?