When I’m lying in my bed
And the cold comes from behind the curtains,
The duvet fluffed up like an arctic fox
Burrows me from the morning
And calls dreams of another time
When the rain smelled of running rivers
And leaves smiled at the sun
Whose essence distilled in dew drops
Greeted the forest floor,
When there was no me.
But this morning it’s another day,
Of chimpanzees grinning as they
Eat each other’s souls,
And cover their ground in a plastic web
Made of oil and coal.
But today I shall let go of the stories I’m told,
When I shall drop my wooden bucket
On the ground, and look all around
At all that isn’t me.
Today is the day, I shall free myself from
All thoughts of me and you.