trout [ 9 ] October 2001
Emily Dobson [ 1, 2, 3, ]

 

2.
the concrete earth
swells with the heaviness
of massed rock
before my feet can bring me
to my door.
‘fear not, for I’ll be home soon,
and all will be well.
fear not, for I’ll be home soon,
and all will be well.
fear not, for I’ll be home soon,
where oranges await
my dripping mouth,
and the red pillow
remembers dead meat.’
And just when you think
the journey will reach its end,
at a high place, in an
expected sequential way,
you are jerked off the bigger road
the solid falls away beneath your feet.
The slip of the slope forces me to run
down, to the door.
I am almost home
and I am afraid.

 

 



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© 2001 Trout &
Emily Dobson