Soft spotlit skin glows in a wee twirl with a gnarled brough

Brush back the buckling rosehip bush and elm branch

Scuffing up shavings of flesh from your forearm

You fear the warm, purple, dawning sun,

furthermore the whispering hedgerows

Through patterned gaps in the trees

you flinch at every harsh beat of sunbeam and heed its heat

having it’s hot way on the apples of your cheeks.

The sun is setting now, sleep is best done in a bed, not a woodland floor.

As darkness swallows the air around you and rest is anticipated within a sparse coverage of twigs and honeysuckle

eerie woos echo off tree trunks

Perhaps something is crawling near.

You swing your body in seek of something, someone, near and visible, but all you come to find is shades of harsh and soft grey outlines of towering pine trees and twitching leaves. The night is soft but the wind grows more violent and a howl fills the gaps between, growls nearing, closer, to your left, Eastbound, Southbound then back again, closer and louder dead leaves crunch and you spin, you hear the sound of the brittle ground beneath your feet and stop.

Am I the creature?

Your body firms, skin crawls but you are attentive, and still.

Still, in this forest. Still, alone.

At least the sun is on its way to save you.

You sigh.

The forest is alight with a loudening drumming. Cicadas bang and flies buzz through you, the chaos is far from finished.

You feel this. Creeping it’s way up your boot and onto your leg and over your knee, further it travels, rising your thigh and it itches, it crawls; A white tail spider is on your leg. Abort all other current conditions, you are safe, as long as you get that thing off of you, NOW.

Brush the gnarled insect from your flesh and feel it’s phantom legs tingle. Goosebumps.

Sigh.

Alert again you lift your face, eyes to the void ever-forth, a calm sigh.

A crackling twig to your left, you spin once more, sucked right back into the chaos, you miss the spider. The trees woo and bats screach, your heartbeat now audible to the world around you, danger lurks.

To your right now, snap.

Between a crowd of staring stumps and looming logs, in a small slit stands a shadow. Once firm now frozen, you stand face to face with the absence of light, the formation of your polarity. It’s you, but not you.

With a curious head tilt it’s arms open, widening as you slightly stumble backwards, cautious.

Is there something it wants? Maybe it’s lonely. A nocturnal creature would be very lonely, with nothing but spiders and sleeping shrub to keep it company. No light, no warmth.

You step toward it, feeling the comfort grow from it’s open chest. Hug it, you say to yourself, you could use a hug.

But the next step taken is the last rush of any kind of warmth, the creature lunges. Running toward you at full speed. You fumble over foliage and fearful feet, on your back now, hands scuffed you guard your eyes deep in your lap.

Stay in the dark…

Still rocking back and forth, keeping time with the toads’ croak turned wattle-bird whistle. Your head still pummelled deep in your legs you open your eyes and see. Unfolding your tight limbs to beacon the tepid sunlight and stand.

The morning has arrived.

You turn back to assess the environment you’ve burnt into and see your shadow has returned to you. Strung to you by your feet and carrying.

Car horns sound nearby and you sigh.

Safe on the highway at last.