Haze

Looking closer,
I realise I can see all these little ghosts,
mayfly spirits flittering in the haze between grass, leaves and sky.
And if I listen harder,
I can hear the breeze sifting through the trees.
And if I feel harder,
I can feel the blood throbbing through my legs and warming my bones.
And if I felt harder, I would feel this,
and the spot of blood I wiped from my thumb might instead flow onto this page,
and slowly pushing a line into my skin in blue ink in its place
that shines like a birthmark when the sun comes out
would somehow work.
I spy my shadow
and it fades
like a dream
but I'm
still
here
.