How can a page from a story run through my grey matter
Take hold of the back of my neck to have a gorgonize effect
I heard the doorbell ring, decided to ignore it
I knew it would be my old pal, Lucky
Going on about the strange landmark
He found on a map he picked up in a flea market
Undoing the lock from my bike
Reminding myself to get a new pedal
I rode around the vicinage
Trying to find the house described on the page
As I rode through the tunnel
I felt a sudden rush of wind
A door opened in the middle of the tunnel
I could see the crusade
The Knight’s Templars were being slaughtered
I could hear the clash of metal, the screams of the dying
I could see men, falling from their horse
And horses falling over men
I could smell the earth, the iron in the air
I will admit I happen to have a vivid imagination, but
On reaching home, I found blood spatter on my t-shirt…
© Anita Dawes 2021
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