I recognized them in their books
I saw whom
who had a flirt with the goatman
I passed them in the streets
of words, felt their nightlonging
for reunion with nature at head
I touched the decades back in their scripts
were I smelled their hermeneutic approach
though sparkling with the naivitee as a child
And as I fell down those pages
I felt an envy for those who could walk into
a forrest as a faun with a newborns great trust
But that trust were lost
way back in time
when cold hands to his praise
reached through the womb of my mother
where I held my breath when all went ice and still
