Primeval

There are mysteries at the edge of the field,
Where the corn stops growing and the thicket
Begins. Domesticity ends, and the light,
The known, the world in service to humans,
Gives way to the darkness and danger,
The wild. Wolves may lurk in the shadows,
And terror may take the soul of one
Drawing too close. Black water creeks
With slick mud banks can swallow
Those foolish enough to come in.
Stay in the field. Do not drift toward
Its edge if you want to sleep safely tonight.




Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2018-06-23 at 22:03

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Ashe
A powerful and foreboding feeling is indeed well defined here on the part where humans don't have a domain, and it should be left for the natural owners or face dire consequences. I love the feel and the imagery in this.
Ashe
2018-06-23