As a child I had the nightmare of being lost in a forest, wandering blindly among alien-looking plant-life and slithering skulking animals. That universe is huge, and cluttered with unthinkable possibilities, almost none of them pleasant.
Where Are You.
Where are you.
Where are you child.
Among the spring green leaves
Naked as a lizard;
I hear your airy lilt,
Why are you humming.
From what remote well
Do these grotesque sounds come;
Dispatched, bleak cirrus
In the high skies of a child's voice,
Freezing all the forest
Into fairy-tale stillness.
Where are you,
Where are you child.
In what empty paradise;
Where's the tower that emits your
eccentric song;
Against the frozen wings of which
birds of paradise
Do you rub.
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