Nightmares Wild
The criss cross tracks with water filled
Speak slender wheels on forest path
In slalom travel through the trees
In search of beach and ocean waves
He pants, his hands around the rims
Are dirty, mossy, blistered, red
His head is filled with panicked thoughts
For woods are dark, for trees are high
They whisper, whistle, secretive
Plant thoughts that turn to nightmares wild
But round the next bend woods subside
They shrink to bushes, undergrowth
Behind a small dune sea sounds roar
His halting breath sobs silently
In him composure slowly grows
And with the lifting of the veil
The starry night smiles calming love
Behind the window of his room
Where fear for forest has no place
Where horror dims and disappears
***
Iambic tetrameter
May 18, 2017
Copyright © Darren White
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