The Echo You Held As Your Own Poem by Mark Heathcote

Heavily limbed, feet plodding
Blood sugars are now too low
Oh, where do you go?
Now your bodies melting
Like it's made of falling snow
Like, it's in its infancy

Like it's a tree
In the fall waving goodbye
Oh, where do you go?
When leopard jaws open slow
The beating pulse still bleeding
Where do you go?
Now love has turned you out into the cold.

With frozen breaths
You might wish you weren't
Even still breathing
Oh the wolves sound friendly
Maybe they can comfort me
Oh, where do you go?
When the echo you held as your own
Does take your one-true home.

Heavily limbed, feet plodding
Blood sugars are now too low
Oh, where do you go?
It's not like you will ever really move on
The shadows circle the leaves groan
This open ploughed field is your throne
Oh, the snow it blankets.
It cocoons you in.