Just Alone Poem by Mark Heathcote

Now I'm the fox, and you're the hound
the tables have turned, turned upside down
I've got to jump, plummet like a stone
and run and hide, and leave my home
now I am the mouse, and you're the cat
I've to hightail it like a plague-carrying rat,
I've got to carry the weight of all your lies
and be as homeless as the wind that cries.

Now I'm an island without an isle a stream
I'm left wondering again who I am
what vestige, what remnant of me is, left?
Once I was a young stag, but who am I today,
now I am a mote without a sovereign's castle
I am a land without a country,
I live my life each day a little more numbly,
drinking, more and more ale, a lot more bourbon.

Now I'm a vulture without a bone to pick over
I feel I am broken, like a cracked china plate
one if you release, will surely-break
get buried in the corner of a garden, never visited.

Now I'm the fox, and you're the hound
now I am the mouse, and you're the cat
now I'm an island without an isle a stream
now I am a mote without a sovereign's castle
now I'm a vulture without a bone to pick over
I am just alone, I am just alone,
I am a broken reed, without a tune.

Mark Heathcote © 2017