the knowing
for a long time now
I tried to deny him, and yet,
the hunter has followed me
I felt him on my heels
and I dodged and ran
as I crouched in dark thickets, I felt him coming
dark hooded rider
searching for me, only one step behind
I managed to elude him
time and again, but
yesterday I felt the arrow
pierce me
the old familiar pain
as when I was small, an orphan
bewildered and left in an empty room
the wound never really healed
only closed on the surface
proud flesh
he too has longed for
what others take for granted
birthrights
ghosts, fleeting and ephemeral
try as I might
can’t find my way out of
this empty space
then he said, with knowing:
"it’s hard to be what we are…the least".
copyright 4.15.09/ N.McIntyre
