Poetry: 16 november 2008

by YAJi



suspended
in a time
in a land of tall shadowy green leaves
in the dawn
bombarded
surrounded
with dark silhouettes
of the branches above.

seated
unceremoniously in the
dusty
stained
white bridge edges

and the frogs
and insects
and creatures
croak and roam and hop

as they blend in
the background of
suspended
temporary
peace.

loathe the disturbing
wretched
footsteps of the same kind
(no you’re not the same; you’re different –
they just look like you)

and you long to hide
as your heart races
because maybe
they’ll come for you so you’d
do the things of
their world.

you refuse.

you look away and sit still
and you hold your breath
because you don’t want
to be seen.

but you can’t stand it,
you get down and
runrunrun.

because you are the
last one

with the white soul

of the children of your god.