At the black bottom of the loch
layers of forgotten days,
long dead, long lost
stir
Though the surface is glass
ruffled by no wind
tideless, seeming safe,
wait -
At any moment
the rot of what was thought
safely buried, hidden,
may rise
And the deeper it was drowned
the bigger bursts its ghost
smashing the reflected sky
forever
My back is to the loch
I walk untroubled hills but wish
that I could turn, raise hands, shout
"Stop!"
And help you.
Only help you.
I wish
that I could help you.
Mar 31, 2011
Mar 31, 2011 at 12:11 PM UTC
At the black bottom of the loch
layers of forgotten days,
long dead, long lost
stir
Though the surface is glass
ruffled by no wind
tideless, seeming safe,
wait -
At any moment
the rot of what was thought
safely buried, hidden,
may rise
And the deeper it was drowned
the bigger bursts its ghost
smashing the reflected sky
forever
My back is to the loch
I walk untroubled hills but wish
that I could turn, raise hands, shout
"Stop!"
And help you.
Only help you.
I wish
that I could help you.
- From Also Available Free
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