Instinct
I am lying here
Frozen like a rabbit
Trying to outwit the fox
I dare not move
In case you see me
I saw you on the roadside
I couldn’t get away
Fast enough
My only hope is to lie still
And hope you go past
In your frustration
And you don’t scent me like a bloodhound
Because then I am surely lost
I can’t explain it
But when I saw you
Instinct took over
You were human
And then you were not
For this to happen in the daytime
Chills me to the bone
How long do I wait here
Until I start to rot?
*****
This image was taken on the road to Litlington village in East Sussex, UK. This road has entranced me all my life and I am constantly drawn back to it. The atmosphere can change, depending on the weather and the season, the time of day, and perhaps just because you happen to be there.
At times, despite appearances, the atmosphere is not benign. There are entity's far older than what we can imagine still tethered to this place, that cannot let go. In a sense we are the trespassers. I felt I needed to leave the roadside that day, so I quickly went into the wheat field.
I have chosen to pair this image with ‘Those We Don’t Speak Of’ by James Newton Howard from the film ‘The Village’ by M. Night Shyamalan. Please click below on the link for this wonderful music.
And if you would like to see more of my work, have a look at my website at:
Instinct
I am lying here
Frozen like a rabbit
Trying to outwit the fox
I dare not move
In case you see me
I saw you on the roadside
I couldn’t get away
Fast enough
My only hope is to lie still
And hope you go past
In your frustration
And you don’t scent me like a bloodhound
Because then I am surely lost
I can’t explain it
But when I saw you
Instinct took over
You were human
And then you were not
For this to happen in the daytime
Chills me to the bone
How long do I wait here
Until I start to rot?
*****
This image was taken on the road to Litlington village in East Sussex, UK. This road has entranced me all my life and I am constantly drawn back to it. The atmosphere can change, depending on the weather and the season, the time of day, and perhaps just because you happen to be there.
At times, despite appearances, the atmosphere is not benign. There are entity's far older than what we can imagine still tethered to this place, that cannot let go. In a sense we are the trespassers. I felt I needed to leave the roadside that day, so I quickly went into the wheat field.
I have chosen to pair this image with ‘Those We Don’t Speak Of’ by James Newton Howard from the film ‘The Village’ by M. Night Shyamalan. Please click below on the link for this wonderful music.
And if you would like to see more of my work, have a look at my website at: