Valley of the Forgotten
The Valley of the Forgotten
By Jason Williams
Gray and white clouds sail gently over the valley of the forgotten,
casting ethereal patterns on the wildflowers below.
In one, I see the child,
injured upon the path home.
With face frozen in agony,
his silent cries pierce my ears.
His shadow falls upon my desperate and stricken face.
But he is just a cloud now,
an imprint from my years past.
There’s nothing to be done…..
or undone.
The treeline stretches out to the horizon,
a dark splotch to the east tells of his story.
The tale of oneself, of myself,
lies in the dark crook of these woods.
I fled from its depths long ago.
A forbidden path my curiosity chose,
abandoned in haste lest it consume me.
As I look down into the valley now,
the memory of the child fills me with such anguish
The song of the magpie, my only solace, comforts me.
It protects me from the dark memories
of the long forgotten.
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