Dark Woods
She said she feared dark woods
like those nearby
yet knew not why;
for dark or light,
the substance is the same,
the beasts are tame;
there’s naught to fear but fancy.
And yet the fear held tight
that only light was right,
that even night needed a moon.
She said the tales
that she had heard,
when but a babe,
of monsters lurking
in the dark,
had left a mark
upon her mind
too deep
for reason’s rubbing
to erase.
So we let fancy have its will,
skirted the wood,
stayed on the hill;
for it was May
and many a day
would pass before the fall.
Now when I dream
that scene returns;
and as I yearn to enter there,
her words I hear
of dark and light
and share her fear
of moonless nights
and shapeless beasts
that feast on minds
till bodies flee
from the nightmare woods
and leave me here
alone, alone
in fear.
(Written May 16–20, 1965 at Brentwood School, Essex, England. Long forgotten, then found Jan. 25, 2018 in Milford, CT.)
