The night hath fallen and
I
frantically search the forest floor for tracks of my accomplice
under a pale moonface
smiling through opaque canopies
I
hysterically amass twigs and brush and assemble a beacon fire
SOS
SOS
SOS
alone and detached
I
take comfort in the trees spinning yarn
telling acorn to oak parables
counting their rings of ancient times
I
build bunkers from birch bark
WAIT
WAIT
WAIT
if not for my accomplice's return
I
shall find peace and solitude away from savage beasts who dwell in city centres