February 17, 2010 11:03pm There was music in the wind blowing through the pine trees late last night / And she danced beneath it naked to the silvery moon's delight / Bare feet on wet pine needles as she goes / cool wet forest mud ooze between her toes / whispering a rhyme from when she was a child / somewhere lost in the trees she slips off her soul's tameness / and lets it run free and wild / Nothing left to fear where no one's near / and so down through the pines / and down to the river's side / then naked swim across / and emerge bapsized / shivering icy cold / her body whistles to her soul / It runs back to her like a faithful dog / "where now?" her soul laughs / "where not?" she answers it / "Not back," her soul whispers. "Never back. Now we're free and so never, ever back!" / A mournful whistle now wails across the darkness /"Then will you follow me across the fields, soul? For there lies the railroad track, which never turns back, and reaches forever infinite away!"
