The mist peels back for the rainfall,
I feel the craziness once more.
In the wild eyes of an old man’s face
I see his mirrored thoughts
fouled by the bad days just gone,
still trapped here in this place.
The sky is falling,
lingering mist slowly revealing pain
as it clings to leafless treetops.
Each breath I take is different
every one he takes – the same.
The closer I come to the stone,
to the fabric – the tales
gripping this village
the lonelier I become,
my ears want to hear,
my eyes to see
but my heart says ‘no.’
There is groaning
in the empty doorway,
my stomach tightens,
he is calling to his wife.
I button up my combat jacket,
shove my hands deep into pockets,
make fists that no-one sees.
She will not come,
his heart is breaking again.
I step back,
back out into the sucking mud.