lone shoot

I am very scared, the darkness is creeping me out,
as the crickets murmur to the evil, the uneasy bout;
they whizz past me, for companionship, I so much pine
the gust of wind, sends chilly shivers down my spine.

the distant array of lights desert me some time at 1,
by my side, there’s one late friend, that’s the sun;
but ghosts and feet, wear me till then, no end
and affright me, leaving nothing in my life to mend.

my friends pass, as milk and machine, food and scene,
pasture or lawn, counterpart’s short domestic lives;
long live I, but far on the gazelle when the lion dives,
that’s dead, and I am bruised, left in this circle as a roué.

I fade out, on my own, small, nice, wild and extinct;
a scared old being’s life, a comparison succinct;
I was luckier than all of them, for I had no ill-death,
but they lived the moments, they Aleph, me the Beth.

when it is dark and silent in distant un-occupied
lands, probably the lone grasses spend scary nights.