The Woods

The Woods

There's a woman somewhere alone lost in the woods of the internet
She wanders through frost and fog and thin air of cold marriage.
She's starved in the eyes and she salvates at the thought of meat-
Being carnivora and forced to eat leaves.

Snakes hang from limbs on the lines all around her.
The warning signs posted are depths of measurement
And mark a trace of wrong ways gone.
She lies in beds of needles at night,
And she times the hours by movements
Howlers make following the moon.

Her instincts still wake her in the morning.
The dawn still finds her where she hides.
She remembers to keep moving on.
But her eyes keep growing unaccustomed to the light.