I’m still here

I’m still here

The old school house is advancing towards the woods,

I can see its peg legs plane stretching.

The mousetraps, we left on the doorstep,

didn’t stop the clocks.

They icked in the windows,

found new ways to let

the forest feel like a lovely girl

and then retreating repeated

‘as I move further and further away

your beauty my dear, seems to fade.’