Teeth chattering with fear, I go
Forward into the wilderness.
All the guns in the world won’t help.
I’m out of bullets. I have me.
I inhale the smells – pine, dirt, smoke,
Sweat. Earth’s perfume is assaulting my
I feel that I am being followed.
In my periphery, a flash
The hunter is now being hunted.
The irony’s not lost on me.
I’ve followed the river, as taught.
Still, I’ve managed to lose my way.
— ~ —
The remote chimes as I press pause.
I pick up the phone and ring room
I lay back on the hotel bed,
Comfy. Warm. And thinking of what
By Sarah ©2019