My head
has fallen off. It just toppled
and is rolling after you as you walk away:
I see nothing but concrete, sky, concrete…
Toes panic,
not knowing up from down;
they grip and fumble into the earth
to hold me to the world. They root me to this moment.
I can’t
do anything, an abandoned trunk,
my arms outstretched. Air tugs at my fingers –
brittle, tentative, they reach and stop.
When you
are long gone and my head
lies face-down in some dark ditch, I feel
their presence - others before and behind me,
and wonder how long they've been standing here.
