Hinterland Poem by Mark Heathcote

Until you know where I'm standing,
until you know where I'm waiting,
until you know where I'm waving from
till these shadows take your hand
come search for me in the hinterland.
I'll be beneath your feet like mossy quicksand.
Amid tall pines, the back of beyond
the purple woodland, the stagnant pond
a remote area you'll not stumble upon
I'll wait for you forever, but don't be too long.
For you, I'd wait forever. I've no sense of time.
I'm vying for us to lie together, entwined.
At least whilst I'm completely out of my mind.