harassed down a lane. The setting sun

through the dusty midsummer landscape

slipping past weary, unnoticed beauty,

dissatisfied, cynical.

The hopes of youth - ulcers arguing, speaking,

self-absorbed, not even noticing how stubborn.

On the crest of a hillock, the little creature

hurtled off into the forest: didn't bust, ran into, eyes closed, revived.

-through the thinly treed forest, a patch of dark-green grass-

Nestled its head between its forepaws, a shout:

if you hang around in this wilderness, you'll have to find your own way back.

No sound from the forest. Listened for another moment, lost in thought.

The sun set: for a moment afraid it would try to escape. It showed no sign of fear at all.

Alone in the forest, on a summer evening. Abandoned.

What does one usually do in such a situation?

gazed at the sunset's last road tenderly.

refreshed, contemplated mulling over

what had happened.

unplugged, peacefully the night forest didn't return even an echo,

splitting not a squeak:

"got to get back home right away".

This episode's cover photo credited to: https://www.freepik.com/free-photo/blue-oil-paint-strokes-textured-background_13462556.htm

Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.