I walked alone in the woods

I walked alone in the woods,

 

supple branches peeling away from my face.

Aquamarine moonlight flew across the span

of tree-to-tree

covering our backs--

the woods, and I--

 

and friends I should not seek to have.

 

And what those woods held,

dogs in traps,

sasquatches in the hills,

men on park benches in the dark

on the trunks of

grey-black towers--

 

and friends that I would not seek to have.

 

Whose shadows are these?

the rooty way has dimed,

the moon is dead,

and these trees are pushing in,

crowding, wrapping arm-over-arm,

where once they stood alone.

 

Like friends I would have sought to have.

 

One Orphean eye I will not turn,

will not step out of, will not complain

even as these shuddering spectators

lean into my shoulder, resting their

heads of wet hair, spiraling down,

seeking comfort, I should not give"

 

for friends I will not seek to keep.

 

For fear I will not be kept--

will not be remembered

in someone else’s epitaph.

Who will walk in the dark

not knowing where they are going

for me?

 

For a friend--I will not be for them.

 

I am not one of them,

I am the man, who howls his watch,

In this dark passage

somewhere far from home,

alone in the woods

that hide from me

 

and all the friends I did not have.