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Tuesday Snake

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What is this place where only names talk back?
And who am I to ask that question?
I am a dead creature on a desert road,
or I have taken that step from the dust,
and once again, I am no one.

Why is there a man in the trees?
Is he afraid of me, who is no one?
Does he have a purpose?
A silent stalker, he is no one
and his road is forever wide.

And for the sake of old times,
do we cross back over great oceans?
Does pain and discontentment haunt our waves?
Here, where only the names talk back,
nothing old remains.
And we all must cross that dark road.





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Wonderment said...
Nov. 25, 2011 at 7:41 pm
I like it. It's deep plus i feel like theres more too it. It paints a picture I can almost see it
 
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