25 July 2012
Sweat dripping down my face, Running - Running at an ever increasing pace, Shadows are old friends that hide me, Around every lamp-post past every tree - Feet thunder down, Without a sound - Run fast, Run faster, This night won't last.
Running to the iron gate, Please, no, wait! I can't be late! Practiced climb over forbidden walls, Into natures guarded halls, Rock scratched and leaning west, Twisted dark vines, not at their best, Blades clutched my slowed breath, Edging through the darkness in the garden of death, Finally her name, etched in granite, My girl, my love, my Janet, Fingernails scratch on my love again, Curling up beside her stone, I whisper, "It's me - it's Ben."
Visiting Janet • Opuss № I