Sunday, 4 December 2011

The Green Man

The green man:
I always see him walking,
just beyond my crimson feet
to a place I'll never know.

My hands are red,
my feet are red
and I prefer to stand.

I can never quite catch him,
no matter how hard I try.

I wait and I stare
at impatient faces,
impatient feet
and impatient hands

that button they depend on.

I know,
I accept,
they want me gone.

They want the green man.

He is loved,
because he walks.
He is the Pied Piper,
right across the road.