There is a way to save you,
caught in the thick briar mind.
Painful as I reach out for it,
hands a mess of bloody punctures.
I never knew
we ever let it get this far.
I have to admit,
I wondered how
we were going to get you out,
but time and my obsessions
drifted me away from you,
So now,
the only way I can see,
is overgrown with thick vines,
with sharp thorns.
I am told that these things don’t happen
in a vacuum.
You neglected yourself pretty well.
The guilt that drives me,
to bloody my hands
on the barrier between us
might be some strange,
misshapen memory of love,
but it is mine to deal with
however I choose.
Are you still there?
I stand,
hands dripping blood
from a thousand tiny cuts and punctures.
Lacerated face
and clothes tattered,
listening for something more
than the sound of my own heart beating …
… lungs breathing …
… and I hear nothing.
Have you given up?
Are you gone?
Have you discovered some new way out?
Have you escaped
and abandoned me
to labor at this painful task
alone?
There are no good questions that come.
Briefly,
I consider getting the fuel can.
Douse the thorny briar between us
and watch it burn.
Maybe we would survive.
Maybe not.
I would give a lot for closure,
but I would likely only be left
with ashes.
So finally,
I sit
in quiet contemplation,
letting my worn mind and body rest.
Then,
after a short while,
I get up and walk over to the garden shed.
I return
with my watering can
and some fertilizer.
I have decided,
that thorny briars
often have beautiful flowers
and that if you are still there,
trapped on the other side
and need saving
you’ll let me know.
HG – 2017
