In solitude, there are days when
The losses so mount that, resolved,
I jump the tracks, daring the procession
To run me down. Even leaping aboard
The empty cattle car, I let it
Carry me into the dark night of my soul.
I climb to the top and see nothing
But darkness leading to an obscure
Horizon guided by a sliver over sombre still
Grasslands, and as I skip from car to
Car, I see the snake slithering
Beneath me and I am calmed.
Onwards then, to the streak of gold
Lying deep within the creases of me.
copyright © 2013 Amanda Morris Johnson