You chose to lead, natural I suppose
Without thinking, I followed you
Into the water, warm and calm at first
But the winds came, disturbing the glassy surface
Waves crested, then slammed
I scraped along the bottom, eyes stinging from the brine
My lungs and heart ready to burst
Until I found my footing
I lead you then, into the jungle
Moving fast, through a veil of mist
Sweet and pungent scents enveloped
But darkness fell
You tired of tripping through shadowy undergrowth
A thorn pierced your cheek; blood ran like a tear to the earth
A snake entwined your neck like a noose
You ripped it free and ran
The sea would not quiet, the jungle remained a shroud
We emerged naked and shaking, face to face
Where the sea meets the jungle
The strip is narrow and rocky, but if we navigate this thin terrain
Your feet splashing in high tide, vines caressing my hair
Maybe we can straddle this path
Until we reach the point, where it dwindles to nothingness,
Or opens to space yet not explored
About the Creator
Mary Haynes
Mary Haynes splits her time between a romantic old sailboat in tropical waters and a beach home in Ontario. A wanderer, by fate, she embraces wherever she roams! Mary recently completed her first children’s book, “Who Ate My Peppers?”
Keep reading
More stories from Mary Haynes and writers in Poets and other communities.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.