I jump into a hole
in a sense I am fleeing Alice
or just playing hide'n'seek
the landscape of my childhood
is full of holes
the war left craters
and red rust relics
of industry
my intention is to hide
amongst the weeds
some say I am a weed
they say it's deadly nightshade
and to touch it is to die
and while I know it is not true
still I feel a frisson
as my hands pass through the leaves
and touchdown on dry dirt
