Human Down

​Human Down

​

His desolation is a relentless sun.

that carves shadows from the east

out of shriven mornings and

mourning afternoons.

He weeps but leaves no trail.

​

Within the distance of touch,

there is an endless expanse

of life-deep,

giving waters.

For him, bound to the ground

on which he chose to stand,

it is a moon's travel.

Forever out of reach.

​

The people walk

between him and the deeps,

do not notice as he sinks, so quiet,

passing invisible, though in plain sight,

with each withering beat of the sun.

​

Fiona Mackintosh (© 2011, 2018, 2022)