And one day, I stopped running-
Overcome with exhaustion,
Buckling knees, dropping to the earth,
Scrambling to wince over my shoulder,
Cowering, shielding my gaze-
But the horizon behind me was barren,
Only footprints disturbing cream sand,
Their edges convulsing under a breeze’s hand-
No creatures with seeping wounds of disgrace,
Or boggarts snarling, muttering blame,
There were no eyes that I dreaded to face,
Or lachrymose rivers whose weepers I couldn’t name –
Peering down at the floor I saw no shadow,
Turning I saw the phantom was before me,
The Sun cradling my Stygian silhouette-
My grief a gnomon, keeping time on my dread,
A sole soldier running from its own head-
Standing once again, I adjusted my course,
Inviting my shadow to my side for discourse,
And we continued on into time,
Leisurely, like two friends of the oldest kind.
~Annalise

Leave a Reply