Handful of me will rest beneath the spruce

[Ewan_McTeagle]

Sleep further due South, where cicadas whisper.
Ground gives warmth to trees, leafs and hitchhikers
beside the highway. That becomes cold and thick
in the night. Like blood out of an unexpected wound.

Knock further due North before flesh and bones
appear in the doorway. Deaf for the spring
blind for the summer when the sun sets. I’m running
without a knife in my hand. I feel the scars yield.
Silent and focused on their own vanishing reality.

[Jester]

Hi Ewan. Could you possibly run an explanation by me on this. I'm not too good at guessing. It needs spelling out to me. I Like some of the imagery though.
Thanks for posting.
Mick.

[Ewan_McTeagle]

Hi Jester. Basically it's about suicide, my vision of it.

Thank you for your comment.

[Greenman]

Hi,
As someone, who has seen someone jump from a railway bridge. I can see where you are coming from in this short poem. Short and to the point, it be lost if the poem was any longer.

Greenman....