Castle: Lisa Martin

No turning back
Not all clocks
Can be reset
Around the ground
Grass does grow
So high, so hidden
No view can penetrate
What is within
Sort yourself
Blindly
Eyes are not
Needed here
I will stand
Secure
Between the
Blades
Waiting, waxing, wanting
To be
Seen
Box those ears
Shut
And holding air
Waves
Rock me
To sleep.