by Gary W. Davis
Verdant woods, yellow dirt road, setting sun.
Fading colors in a day almost done.
Ah, what a still life well composed.
If only I could relish such repose.
Motions and emotions now swirl in the dusk.
But they’re nothing I can see, nothing I can trust.
Acute sensations of smell and sound
crescendo in my head unbound.
I had thought all this a nature trick
fear of the forest or a little bit sick.
What started as a wormhole in the mind
has left my real self far behind.
What is real now I’m not so sure.
Only this brain-sturm I must endure.
All thoughts are deeply visceral,
a blur between mental and physical.
The cerebral surge flows down the torso,
sprouting muscle gnarls I don’t want to know.
Coarse matted hair all over is exuding,
bony shoulders and a heavy snout protruding.
The woods are bathed in crepuscular light,
as the full lunar orb gains in height.
My humble hominid self is now re-centered.
Power suppresses fear, hunger severs honor.
Oh Super-Moon, I can feel you abreast,
as did the ancient masters of the forest!
Previously published in Bloodbond May 2015
© 2020 Gary W. Davis
Gary Davis likes all things classic horror. He has published
Halloween short stories in Aphelion (October 2019) and in Frostfire
Worlds (2016-2019). He has published poetry in Aphelion, The
Crypt, Bloodbond, Illumen, Scifaikuest, Star*Line, Tales from the
Moonlit Path, two Lester Smith Halloween anthologies and in a
anthology, Kepler’s Cowboys (2000-2020).
Find more by Gary W. Davis in the Author
Comment on this story in the Aphelion Forum
Return to Aphelion's Index page.