Good days don’t start with dead animals on the road.
Big cats loom over us
Angry in the sky,
Their paws torment trees and hair
And my little piles of leaves.
People still breathe under the soil,
This is how brittle flowers come back brand new.
Ghosts do wander
That’s how the fog comes,
When they walk up
Out of the ocean onto the sand
That doesn’t crinkle around their feet,
Through patched forests
They lurk between the trees.
I have seen the crowds come from the beach
Through the town
Out into the fields.
I have watched them come slowly,
Come towards me and never once touch.
Just walk around me.
Are they lost?
I don’t think they can be.
Fog doesn’t cry,
Clouds don’t claw,
And I would rather walk among the vapour than walk alone.
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