Back on the beaten path.
The trees, all knotted and crooked as they arch tall, blocking out the light.
Take a step.
Get it over with.
There’s no wind, no owls, no creatures of the night.
Nothing stirred, just the sound of walking down the trail.
Dirt turns to sand.
Waves wash up on the shore.
The forest opens up.
Trees surround the lake.
There he is.
Standing on the water.
Can’t see his face.
Facing the opposite shore.
It’s going to happen, its crawling inside, cringing while it happens.
Through the water.
But his scream reaches everywhere.
Hands on ears, trying to drown the sound.
Mouth open, eyes closed, silent prayer, crying out.
Tears flow down.
Can’t save him.
There in a familiar room, sun shines through the blinds.
Back to the forest.
This is a poem based on a frequent dream that I have. It’s one of those dreams that when it starts there’s no way of getting out of it. You have to go through the whole thing, good and bad, if you want out. I haven’t had the dream in a while, but I still remember it vividly and remember every excruciating detail. And it’s about a very important moment in my life when I couldn’t save someone that was close an dear to me.