Into the Forest by Diane Jackman

.. the track stretches forward in an endless ribbon, 

dwindling into the future he may not see.

            Behind him the follower steps with care.  Schooled in silence, 

            he does not crack twigs or shiver leaves,  He steps like an Ojibwa, 

            feet straight, toe pointing.  He learned this trick many lifetimes ago.

The track narrows and he measures his pace.  

The air thickens.  His hackles rise. 

No. It is nothing.  

He knows this.  Doesn’t he? 

All the same, he cannot bring himself to turn, to look behind.

He moves forward.  Slowly now.

The hairs still ripple across his scalp and down his spine.

Black and gnarled the trees loom above him.  

Sentinels.  

Protective. 

Or menacing.

He hears a whistle of breath.

And turns to meet the arrow’s flight.

Diane Jackman’s poetry has appeared in many small press magazines and anthologies, and she has won several competitions. Starting out as a children’s writer she now concentrates on poetry.  With her late composer husband she wrote Pinocchio, a music theatre piece for the King’s Singers with the London Symphony Orchestra, and a number of works for choir. She has just completed a sequence, Lessons from the Orchard and is currently working on water poems.