Hanging On

The ground wet with slime sucked
my feet until they swelled
like two red rubber Crocs.
Branches like arms of scarecrows
poked and scratched
at me until my knees hit the grass.
Splashes of muddy rainwater
taunted me in slow motion
and splattered my face brown.
I fell to meet the slug wriggling
in sinuous obscene motions
that said "I won! I won!"
The trail was lost, washed away
in a bath of ethnic cleansing.
I crawled to the side and wrung
my arms around a twine, swaying
like a leaf on a twig and justice
came in the form of slaps
of rain on my face.