As the last glimpse of light behind faded
with none yet risen before,
The tunnel closed in about them
Thick darkness coating walls, floors.
Dense breath resounded along unseen rafters
and in chests no light could touch.
Steadily, they fumbled toward disaster
their clinging hands one another’s crutch.
No-one fell, no-one faltered
while held in the deep grip of those blind soaked halls.
As wordless as they were unlit, they transported
obsession: to feel sun on skin; to hear bird calls.
And then, all at once brightness returned;
welcome, solemn, distant.
But birds never sounded, nor light burned,
as they had in a tunnel in sightless instants.
Book of Pye 