Sludge Memory

Mud sucked at my shoe,

sticky as the dread I carried home.

I pulled—slow, a quiet panic—

slower than the cartoons promised,

no whirlpools, no jaws of earth,

just cold, heavy dirt

that held me still for a moment

before I was free,

and the fear

kept pulsing,

a shadow I dragged

long after the dirt dried

on my skin.