An old crone
Walked slowly
Out of a loud and boisterous tavern
All alone
Stooped and bowed
With the aid of a staff
Limped away into the night
She stepped off the road
Turned towards the forest
Her gait heavy
As if carrying a burdensome load
The wildwood is a place she calls home
Her gray hair neglected, unkempt
Glinted in the moonlight
As she headed deep into the thicket
Her eyes glowed silver
She paused
Raised her nose to the air
She sniffed to the north
Peace and go forth
Sniffed to the east
All is at ease
Sniffed to the south
Looks good all about
Sniffed to the west
She can rest
Everywhere around her
All smelled well and right
She smiled to herself
Pleased and satisfied
Her body shifting
Muscles elongating, contracting
Gray melting into fiery red
She straightened
Tall and sinewy
Holding her staff
She gracefully made her way
Homeward bound
Deep into the woods
Her gait nimble and light
Her meeting with the man
Went quite as she expected
He must save the girl
Or there was no reason to fight
--
*Allene Angelica*
=^_^=
No comments:
Post a Comment