Jungle Buffalo (day 3155)

Running through the jungle softly
Footsteps over bare roots
Caught a glimpse of bright feathers
Flutter deep says the heart.
Spider webs and sticky vines
Leading through an ancient path
Wondering which local animals do use
Which beasts could one ever hope to see?
Wild pigs roam here, so vicious they
Could tear this fluttering heart so bare.
And staring up, far above,
Towards the canopy so green, so deep,
One faintly remembers where the sky
Once a hallmark of the stars
Looked like upon an open campfire
Many meters away
Upon great plains of Canada
Where the buffalo used to roam.

Wander To Withdraw (day 3049)

I wandered here as if lost
One eye on the path
The other asking my Gods
What makes a Man a Man.
I saw sunlight between the boughs
I saw spiders in their webs
I saw the great Fir’s bark
So cavernous and traversed.
I felt deep inside my heart
The partridge that took flight;
So close and thunderous,
So quickly she was off.
I saw the dam the busy Beaver built
Saw his second one too
Which made me feel like an invader
A secret nest so wild.
Then I turned at a landmark
Headed towards where I knew
And back to my familiar trail
To home I then withdrew.

Ghost Path (day 3011)

I want to believe that I’m the ghost
Walking through the woods;
One small cackle,
A broken branch,
An index of places been before.
I collapse
And am the definition of un-sturdy
For my limbs are limp,
My eyes deep blue pale,
My skin, the colour of
Ten thousand sins
Washed with a rectangular bar of soap,
And hair touching my shoulders
That feels like spider webs
Through a barely audible path.

Pieces (day 2932)

Do you care if my soul comes in pieces?
A string attached to spine
Rolling around in a messy wash
Of leftover nails and splinters
Gathered here in my left hand
From a botched carpentry project.
I shot straight,
I climbed high,
I read the books on ethics,
And there beyond my grasp was hidden
A melodramatic stretch of time
That scratched itself
Over dusty chalkboards
And caught again my web
String attached to spine.

Pull My Arrow (day 1737)

I travel to lonely points of inactivity;
Challenge even the iron hearts,
Let my fruit fall all about me here
And lose my heart to a beating drum.
I crawl down to the setting sun;
Steep slope and I’m bleeding mom,
Hands gnarled, so let me gently down
Back to my cold and lonely ground.
I’ve swept out the tangled mess;
Chilling webs of my sweet duress,
If an Angel should come right now
Pull my arrow to shoot her down.

Pull My Arrow by Ned Tobin