Magdalena Ball #41: In Thrall

In Thrall

half in another world
unsure which colours
are brighter

if I look up I’ll know

when I saw you there
you had already moved on

I smelled damp forest
the snap under foot
like sweet tobacco
epiphytic, finding home
wherever conditions were right

it was just gone Christmas
we rarely celebrated it
or anything else
though the air around us
crackled each year, the seasonal
tug, the television told us enough

I knew the city better
in a mythical sense

but for thirty years
the country was my home
it took on a different meaning
over time, as my skin transformed
darkened, accustomed

I immersed myself into it
leaving you there
in that high rise
alone, not alone
but still alone

you wanted that
I knew it
but it hurt us both

especially in the end
not the end, but still the end

though there’s some trace
here, in this wood
hitting the rock like sunlight