Homeward

The wheat waved ... Manic metronomes en masse Steadily ticking off unsteady time Feathery fingers coaxing the cumuli eastward Away from the tangerine-tinted reach He waded slowly through the sepia grasses Palms-down to tickle the tops Dusk approached like a sword - sure of its mark So he quickened his pace to claim the woods while he could still see Not far now, the evergeens pierced the sky An emerald cathedral to welcome him in divine fashion Woody windows deep and black 'Always toward the darkness', he mused (An ambiguous chuckle to himself) He would be safer there, but it held cautions of its own Still, the pine needles offered soft slumber And the inky blackness, its arms He was shaking from the shock of blood loss Freezing cold, though it was a warm summer's eve "I might yet make it home," he said aloud The sound of it adding weight to his fading hopes He lay down near a large pine tree, wrapped tight in his blanket Closing his eyes, he thought sweetly of his woman And surrendered to the swirling dreams From which ... He would never wake.