Haze

Written on 19 May 2013

Looking closer,

I realise I can see all these little ghosts,

mayfly spirits flittering in the haze between grass, leaves and sky.

And if I listen harder,

I can hear the breeze sifting through the trees.

And if I feel harder,

I can feel the blood throbbing through my legs and warming my bones.

And if I felt harder, I would feel this,

and the spot of blood I wiped from my thumb might instead flow onto this page,

and slowly pushing a line into my skin in its place in blue ink

that shines like a birthmark when the sun comes out

would somehow work.

I spy my shadow

and it fades

like a dream

but I'm

still

here

.