by Pavel Chichikov
Narrow dark and humid here
Forward backward are the same
Scent of darkness and my fear
As light to you the scent is flame
Something moving as I pad
Along my burrow keeps away
Withdraws and yet it drives me mad
Does it visit me from day?
There above, beyond the roots
Of things beyond where I can see –
Reverberation of a foot
Storm and thunder over me
The world I hate, the world of light
Things that look where I am blind
Nothing but the lovely night
And clouds that keep the moon confined
Attract me to a brief foray –
Does it visit me from day?
Or does it visit from below
A deep where even I won't go
Hotter, darker than my own
Refuge where I stay alone
Deeper yet with vaster halls
Made of solid lava falls
Either way it maddens, scorns
Withdraws and follows, both at once
My growling and gnashing warns
And if it comes I have defense
Of claw and tooth, so let it come –
Is it many, is it One?
Now it whispers, does it mock?
Those of darkness are My flock
Visit Pavel's website at Grey Owl Press.
