Trotting along a limpid road
I see the old house behind the tired trees
Their leaves swaying with concern
Break free of your nestle cage
The wind calls out to me
My eyes are distracted by a chilling force
My right hand is single
Listening takes forever
Weary are my eyes soon after
The sun begins to ease down under
The sky is now pale with light
Time then has no factors
The darkness weakens my stride
Call my father!
The shadows are overbearing
I see him beckoning
The old house is in the distance
The eerie black keeps me blind
I am afraid
I am alone
Please, call my father!
© 2010 Holly O'Brien
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