Within the woods

thYou lost your grip on reality around the same time

my own dalliance with death disturbed the rafters

my shoulders of a man, yours of a sparrow

we danced around amber whiskey bottles

setting fire to tarmac

lifting our skirts before silver ash enveloped us

but maybe I didn’t clean my feet well enough

you began to tremble in the morning

and I found I could not move

it was as if a deer had been startled

standing quite still in dried grass

he was frozen in situ

for a time I wanted to break out

resume merriment and three penny carnival

until the feeling of falling inside

behind the bones of your face

where all emotion blanches and traces

secrets and lies

became my norm

I did not know anymore

how to stir cocktails of polite acquaintance

or make small talk trace like sleepy snails

I did not know anymore

what became of my social graces

pinned and folded beneath me like taffeta

it gave me comfort to

lose my art of conversation

the yawning maw of fraternization

I listened to words and they did not

beckon me come closer

I felt as strange as the outdoor moth

who half wishes he did not

slap against warm glass trying to

eat the light

for it is not you he seeks

but the burn and blitz of some fantastic

singeing his wings in tattoo

and I too

had always yearned for that feeling

never discovered among the feeding troughs

of social intercourse

and once or twice I left

a full and heaving party

to lift my legs for a stranger in

cramped confine

because the hard bang and knock of his

emptying wood was

more honest than all the winks and nods

whispering behind my back

words

I no longer needed to use

only three ever necessary

I love you

though now you are smudged out

by burn of cinders staining toes

gone as cold as foggy morning

selecting mute I retraced my arc

pushed myself back beneath my bones

within the temple

within the woods

where the deer finally moved

from her camouflage and

sprinted light as powder

into converging dark

60 thoughts on “Within the woods

  1. “You lost your grip on reality around the same time
    my own dalliance with death disturbed the rafters
    my shoulders of a man, yours of a sparrow
    we danced around amber whiskey bottles
    setting fire to tarmac”

    Wow Candice, wow. you got me right at the beginning

    Liked by 1 person

  2. “Within the temple, within the woods… ” love this for many reasons, the first you allowing the reader to “see” the temple as they approach until they are there. Then, there is the walking around once, looking in the Windows which allow the light to come and go. Take off my shoes and respectfully enter, not knowing whom I may meet or how long I might stay. Maybe forever. Thank you!!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Thank you for mentioning the show! Temples are so Holy! I have been inside one in my town. Very simple and yet one knows so much can happen there. I have also been fascinated my monasteries and hope to attend an ” all quiet ” retreat when I am able. You follow the same schedule as the monks, only in complete silence!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Damn, but this is full of the rising light and sap of spring. As for this: “but the burn and blitz of some fantastic \ singeing his wings in tattoo \ and I too \ had always yearned for that feeling \ never discovered among the feeding troughs \ of social intercourse” I will revive an old Beat ovation: GO.

    Like

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