A Pulse, ear, and hands,
telling me what? That I am alive,
The crier announcing “all is well”.
Alone in the world of now,
everything is altered here,
moon shadows flow in contrary lines
Sound carries on wire drawn taut.
Breath and breeze, grass verges salsa
to the rhythm of ghostly feet.
And running sounds behind
in concert with my pumping heart.
Light ahead! Where none should be,
light~headed maybe, or death waiting.
And then the main road and the short walk back
Almost home, to fire~light and sound.
Behind fragile doors and brittle glass.
Safety at last.
© Dave Kavanagh 2016