Poem: Chance we are followed

I keep forgetting to review books, so lucky you, you get poetry instead! I wrote this one sometime last year.

There is a chance we are followed
through underbrush
There is a chance we are running
from our own minds.
Chance that, when monsters find us, they will be shaped like mirrors
/disco balls with sharp edges/
Chance that our feet bleed against stone
chances of the probability diminishing
and diminishing
and diminishing
until all that’s left
is what we remember of the dream after waking
/washed out and
bleached bone white/
There is a chance we are
and the pursuers are just
our wishes.
Our terrible wishes.
Our desire to have someone care enough
to give chase.

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2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Geoffrey
    Jan 19, 2018 @ 15:12:36

    I like your poem Meredith – “Chance we are followed”. It appeals to the heart.


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