I found him nearly buried
in dark ivy and dusty mulch.
A great tree fell in a storm,
knocked him into the shade.
The left horn is broken off
but that's not the worst of it.
His mouth is frozen open, dry vomiting,
tongue down to his chin.
Those hooded eyes were made dead,
face half gray, half
the sour red of rust
or old blood.
I'm as mute as he is
and can't rescue him.
All I can do
is prop his mask
in the sun by the wall
and plant iris there.
in dark ivy and dusty mulch.
A great tree fell in a storm,
knocked him into the shade.
The left horn is broken off
but that's not the worst of it.
His mouth is frozen open, dry vomiting,
tongue down to his chin.
Those hooded eyes were made dead,
face half gray, half
the sour red of rust
or old blood.
I'm as mute as he is
and can't rescue him.
All I can do
is prop his mask
in the sun by the wall
and plant iris there.
This is lovely, Kyla--thank you for it. <3
ReplyDeleteThanks, Mrs F. I'm so glad you like this.
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