This week’s poem inspired by a dream, memories of Tanzania, and the knowledge that there are things we can not control.

Dreams of Falling

But what of falling

Backwards? Passenger seat of a car,

Driver who will not listen, laughing

Foot-slipping pedals.

Crashing backwards through thorny undergrowth,

Over the edge,

Moment when you realize,

Seat-belt’s embrace as 

You fall backwards.

A long, long way down.

Falling, falling backwards,

Mto-wa-Mbu damp rift wall

Flashes past in green and grey.

Neck twisted to see dusty,

Scattered bush below.

Trees rush upwards,

Hungry eyes are on us,

Tree-climbing lions watching,

Watching in yellow-eyed fascination

As we fall

Down, down.

And then I remember no more.

Nyborg 2017