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.