Forest Lodge

The past is a lonely huntsman
Walking on shards of ice,
Those sharper endings present,
How winter ways entice.

I found a dampening cabin
Beyond that gated path;
I couldn’t explain what happened;
I could not find a start.

But whatever you might imagine,
The truth would bruise your heart,
The curtains dank in ambers,
Shelves all empty and dark.

A sign above the doorway,
Inscriptions fading in moss,
I read my name spelt backwards
And woke into my loss.

2 thoughts on “Forest Lodge

  1. Well that was sad and presumed tragic… but also cool because I envisioned the narrator walking backwards into the past, so coming across the letters from left to right. Then instead of waking from a bad dream, waking into the realism of that haunting past in the present, inside that terrible place of horrors, perhaps unknowingly self-cursed by reading aloud the incantation. But that’s just me…

    Like

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