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MOON LETTERS : POETRY

A Ranger's Thoughts While Rowing - By Ferrethobbit

This is a fine boat, even for the Elves.
I should thank Celeborn another thousand times
if I ever return.
Look how the paddles dip and slip
through the water, making currents
in Anduin's clear blue
like birds winging currents
through the clouds.
Rowing is such a peaceful activity.

But not so peaceful;
I can feel darkness closing in about me.

I had a dream last night. Fair Lorien
should guard against such oppressive things,
but nevertheless,
I had a dream:

Thunderous footsteps through the trees.
Before them, the lighter footfalls
of the hobbits and the Elf,
heavier of Boromir and myself,
and dwarf's clanking paces heaviest of all,
but none of us fast enough.
Our pursuers will catch up,
will catch up,
do catch up--
there they are, muscular, tall, heavy,
the air tastes bitter and vile in my mouth.
Here they are, ladders! Ladders! They will
make it onto the wall, over the wall,
brace the gates…!
Where have the others gone? Frodo,
where is Frodo, where is Frodo?
They have all disappeared into the trees,
except for Boromir,
there is Boromir, fighting,
fighting,
fighting--
fighting with
an axe in his back
an arrow in his chest
a sword in his gut
fighting…
There are too many uruks on the wall!
They pour like floodwaters, too many.
I fight,
fighting, always slipping,
always too slow, like the others.

There is Boromir on the ground, on the wall,
gashed, crushed, dead.
"I died," he says accusingly, angrily.
"I wish you weren't dead," I say.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I say.
"I'm dead!" He shouts, furious at me.
"I can't talk, I have to fight!" I say.
He is angry, but I have to fight, still slipping,
always slipping, slipping in blood.
"I'm dead!" He yells.
He grabs my wrist
with a cold, stiff hand,
and I struggle because
I have to fight,
he has to let me go,
I have to fight, to fight…

Even in Galadriel's Lorien such images visit me.
Even with Frodo before me,
even with Boromir rowing close to me,
even with the sun
and the wind
and the water
I feel the darkness catching up.
I can only slip and wing through the currents
and hope that when I reach
that forest I don't recognize,
that wall I don't know,
I will be able to fight…

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