Lost in the Woods
17 April 2007
Lost in the woods without food
or water. First they argue,
assigning blame, then quickly realize
the emptiness of their words.
You cannot eat or drink words
and it does not matter whose compass was wrong,
nor does it matter who forgot what turn.
The thorns are just as sharp either way,
and the poison ivy is just as vile,
and it is too late to untouch it,
or to retrace steps that cannot be seen.
Oddly enough, with all the words
that had been so rapidly spoken,
not much was said of their dilemma.
Expensive backpacks adjusted,
Goretex jackets zipped up tight,
half moon shorts buckled just right,
and the latest fashion in hiking boots
took them just as surely in the wrong direction
and yet neither of them tried puzzling it out
in open conversation with the other.
They were not accustomed to talking
about such negative matters,
such as plans to undo their mistakes,
given that neither could admit to mistakes
in the first place. Overhead the sky
was completely without sympathy,
spinning clouds and winds and hinting rain.
The itching became unbearable
but had to be borne all the same.
came from cursing the Universe
and scratching red welts into blood.
The idea of walking
in a certain uncertain direction
came far too easy to them both,
compasses in hand, forest all about.
They discovered the chaos
of knowing but not understanding.
They had a direction but nothing more.
The undergrowth was tangled
and the brush was perfect hiding place
for the cold blooded creatures
hoping for something nice to eat,
but who might settle for just a bite
of one of those naked legs
passing aimlessly and rudely by.
© 2007, Satya J. Gabriel