Poetry of the Tides

The Highwayman

He came riding from the mists.

His inky horse rushes forth.

A mask of white and hair of night,

Long coat of coal that reached to toes,

Leather gloves of oak and he was a clear sight.

This stranger and his companion assaulted the carriage from the north.

Five shoots-

Seven yells-

All guards knocked out and no farewells.

Came toward the door those boots.

The door swings open

Eye to Eye-

You have found me...

Those green eyes I understand what they mean.

Yet have not seen in years!

These feelings came often...

Lonely highwayman,

Where did you go to roam?

How has the world treated you?

Has it been kind or has it been cruel?

What do you plan to do here and now?

Lonely highwayman,

Do you remember it was you who left me behind?

Do you see now that I have long since past my prime?

Do you understand you are still ageless?

I am no longer that country girl from the milk farm.

And you no longer are that honest stable boy anymore.

You went on your way to find riches and gold.

You said you would come back for me when you were made.

I waited on the hour

Waited the day

I waited like I should have for any days a year.

But there was no sign of you.

But nowhere in sight were you.

When you returned with the shadows of the winter,

I crept away from my family household.

There we embraced.

Yet you were not made you said.

You were just getting started.

You left me with a jewel and something else...

Those cold eyes with such hatred for what I have done.

But you must understand.

The no news came of you afterwards.

None at all.

No time to grieve when my hour of need came.

I lied to him about your gift to me.

I said it was his gift to me.

How was I to care for such a gift all alone?

Lonely highwayman,

Do you how I endured the ending you gave me?

Or the treatment I had under him?

Lonely highwayman,

I am no longer innocent.

And you no longer are breathing.

There is not much of a story to tell.

Eye to eye-

You have found me...

I understand what those eyes mean.

Your knife unblemished in the moonlight.

Eyes narrow as the sleeping child hides behind the folds of my dress.

The door slowly closes.

Disappearing the mists shallow you again.

.

All guards awaken and the trip resumes.

But something in the carriage is dead.