Hiding

The grass stabs at my feet with frost-covered blades.

It hurts, but I’m already numb from the air.

Even in my numbness, I know the path too well

To a little old pond, no bigger than a house

 

The sunless sky is reflected in the still, dingy water,

Making it appear bottomless, it's become a void of darkness.

Dreary, murky, and frowzy, the water is.

Although its unwelcoming atmosphere is its most charming trait.

 

Quiet, still, and forever is this pond. 

Forever I hope it stays.

Even in drought, or in times the air is heavy like honey

It’s still here, never changing

 

Enshrouded in a forest, its only purpose is to nourish

To nourish the body and the soul

It’s a place where the animals only come to drink

A place to rest in undisturbed peace

 

It’s been here longer than me,

I don’t remember when I found it

And will last longer than I

For it is not alive

 

This place I see often

Too often, but sometimes I need a place to sink

To not exists for a moment

To pretend I’m nothing

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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