Thursday 9 June 2016

Untied

He, a grey blur on an even greyer landscape
dissolves into insignificance;
black dog is with him
tugging at the leash. 

She, spirit floundering feigns normality,
gouges out potato eyes strips away the skin.

Their progeny, his legacy, sense the change,
vying her attention, wail and whimper,
tugging at her skirts.

He has done this before,
in nearest every coldest season,
wandered from his narrow path,
seeking solace in high and lowlands,
‘bove barren frozen pastures,
neath lone skeletal trees. 
(There is strange comfort in his solitude.)

This time, depression to deep to lift,
he cuts diagonal as on silvered blade
sun glints a frantic Morse Code.   
Life pulsates out and once exsanguine
he is freer than a bird.

Black dog howls in jubilation,
his mark blood red on glistening snow.

Back home she (unknowing) waits for him,
waits to offer crying shoulder,
ease his gnawing ache, soothe his sadness
(as infants wail and whimper
forever tugging at her skirts).

Anna :o]

Sumana at Poets United has us writing of commitment and what better commitment is there of that of true love and loyalty in whatever life throws up.

For those of you who might not know, The Black Dog is a metaphor for depression.  

Also entered at dVerse OLN.  Cheers folks.

Image: Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons 
Author: Vmarkousis