full pelt

I fell

arms open wide

not flailing

but wondrously welcome

like standing in the open ground

rain sheeting soaking

mouth licking

slight prickle shiver

but warm to the touch

hot to hold

yes yes

I’ll take it all

for better often for worse

for whatever

no appointments

never knowing the next

plunging through danger

and swampy

strange smelling

the natives lying with poisoned

arrows in the bushes

we only hear the birds

as we sail full pelt

towards that elusive future

 

Berlin, August 1985