tumble weed

I lost my way
amid the rushes,
between the bushes,
torn from thorns,
as I turned and tumbled,
was twisted and thrown

and that day the sun burnt
like a blazing beacon upon my body.

I lost the path,
parted from perception,
a play of nature’s deception,
the nature of nature,
as I faltered and fumbled,
was fooled and fowled

and that night the stars stared
like sentinels upon my shadow

along the midway of the midday,
the world wound round
and its spirals knocked me down
while the towering trees
threatened me with their trunks,
turning and twisting
out of shape,
out of sight,
out for rape,
for revenge.

I lost my way
along the track
trying to find my way back,
gaining nothing on the gate,
as my grounding gave way
to a growling gravity,
to a sudden surge of velocity
and I,
twisting like a tumble weed,
caught up like nature’s seed,
wondered if I’d ever be freed.

Twisting through the tracks,
through the bushes
as movement rushes,
tumbling through the well threaded track,
all footprints being pushed back,
twisting and turning
and tumbling like tumble weed,
like nature discarding a troubling seed.

All Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Photographs taken by the underground caves in Maastricht , The Netherlands

Published by deuxiemepeau

Published poet, writer, baker and former fashion maker, with footprints in Paris, London and Amsterdam but currently back home in Dublin with sights aimed at leaving a mark on the West coast one clear fine day...

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