For Paul Brookes’ challenge, and inspired by an artwork by Jane Cornwell.
The watcher
I watch me watching you
through the prism of a dream,
a prism of tree-filtered light
in a distant forest world.
Run, fleet wild thing,
slip away into the shadows,
trust nothing
that walks on its hind legs.
The only wish I have,
even here
between the is and the perhaps—
be afraid,
though it breaks my heart.
