The exercise:
Write about: echoes.
Today was a day off in name only, as I ended up getting very little rest. Kat was in class for most of it so I was in charge of Max during that time, and after a night of not much sleep (I'm awake! Time to try crawling again! I'm so close! What? No, I don't want to go back to sleep... why do you ask?) he wasn't in the best of moods.
Oh well. Here's hoping for a better sleep for everyone tonight and then a good morning of planting potatoes tomorrow.
Mine:
She is gone,
But I cannot miss her;
Like a burn
Living within a blister,
She is here,
Near me evermore,
With questions
I have no answer for.
In the night
There is no silence;
Her words live,
Edged by rage or kindness.
I hear them
In streets and in meadows;
I must heed
These unending echoes.
3 comments:
Echoes in her heart, in her mind
Forever reminding her of her losses
Will she ever be free?
Crunch of pebbles under foot. One step here and they will hear him a mile down the canyon. No choice. He must make his way to cover. Should it be an all out sprint in hopes that a rush of noise will disorient them. Or him. He doesn't know how many have been sent.
His back against a boulder. Temporary shelter. F- this. And by this he means the pain shooting up his spine. Sliding three hundred feet down a cliff into this rocky wasteland causes a bruise or two. Maybe now's the time.
Fluttering. A bird. A black bird. Lands on the boulder. Peers at him. He looks back. A cliche. Death watching over him. Quoth the..... No way, man. He's gonna live.
The big black raven continues its watch. Go away. He shoos it. Hand flailing. It flaps its wings. Stupid bird. It lifts off the boulder. A few inches. And explodes.
Feathers and bird guts splatter his face. Holy F...... He back peddles from the boulder. Sitting on the canyon floor. He looks up. Sees them. The whites of the eyes. Of the real Raven. And he is nevermore.
Morganna - very lovely.
David - ah, you're indulging me I see. Much appreciated :D
Post a Comment