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Literature Text
Flashes of emerald and olive green blurred past the corner of my eyes.
It was dark and shadows danced all over the forest floor. A stranger might be terrified but not me. This was my home.
The earlier rain that fell this day had seeped into the dark soil. Each time my crimson paws met the ground, they were splattered with mud.
My athletic body glided accross the muddy ground, though, as if it was nothing. When I was a youngling I used to slip so many times, covering my entire fur coat in mud. Right now, I would prefer not to fall. The mud would be cold and I had youngsters who needed my warm furry body to serve as a blanket. Sadly, only two survived this winter and this stolen chicken that I had clutched between my teeth was for them.
Hopefully me, as well.
If the little greedy ball of fluffs left me any.
I took a sharp and sudden turn to the left, almost losing my balance. A huge hollowed oak tree were before me. Two pair of huge black eyes curiously stared at me as I slowed my pace.
When I finally came to a halt and dropped their dinner in front of them, two small foxes emerged fully from the tree - more than eager to indulge in some poultry.
While they stuffed their cheeks with meat, I took it upon myself to clean their reddish fur. They must have played in the dust again- it was slightly bleak.
In reality, I cared little about their greedy nature or their neglecting nature. They were mine. My youngsters.
All that mattered was that they lived to see another sunrise each day.
It was dark and shadows danced all over the forest floor. A stranger might be terrified but not me. This was my home.
The earlier rain that fell this day had seeped into the dark soil. Each time my crimson paws met the ground, they were splattered with mud.
My athletic body glided accross the muddy ground, though, as if it was nothing. When I was a youngling I used to slip so many times, covering my entire fur coat in mud. Right now, I would prefer not to fall. The mud would be cold and I had youngsters who needed my warm furry body to serve as a blanket. Sadly, only two survived this winter and this stolen chicken that I had clutched between my teeth was for them.
Hopefully me, as well.
If the little greedy ball of fluffs left me any.
I took a sharp and sudden turn to the left, almost losing my balance. A huge hollowed oak tree were before me. Two pair of huge black eyes curiously stared at me as I slowed my pace.
When I finally came to a halt and dropped their dinner in front of them, two small foxes emerged fully from the tree - more than eager to indulge in some poultry.
While they stuffed their cheeks with meat, I took it upon myself to clean their reddish fur. They must have played in the dust again- it was slightly bleak.
In reality, I cared little about their greedy nature or their neglecting nature. They were mine. My youngsters.
All that mattered was that they lived to see another sunrise each day.
Literature
Ganges.
i have been dreaming in rivers.
it started when those palms of
yours skated into the corners of
my imagination, soaked in thick
incense smoke and wreathed with
the scars of a thousand births and
rebirths, a thousand more deaths
and re-deaths. it started when
those palms pressed up against
the palisades, slipping quiet prayers
in sanskrit between the roman numerals
and grecian arches of a life spent spinning
like foucault's pendulum below the domes
built by my ancestors' hands - their palms
plastered and rock-worn, calloused
and beat
Literature
gecko
once your scales
fall away you are
bare and translucent;
your spine,
visible through the
film of your skin.
there is strength,
in this –
there is strength
in many unusual things.
Literature
origami bluebird
you can fold yourself into so many pieces
you won't be able to feel the disconnect
between your skin
and the way you tense up when someone touches you.
the rips in you are run ragged by your fingertips
and you can never get far enough away
from the edge of the razor blade.
you are teetering on tip-toes with arms held out,
the wind brushing against you and telling you
you have feathers.
you have seen so many other birds fly away
that you start to believe it.
you tell everyone you stepped back a long time ago,
but you know you're too close to falling.
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Roughly 286 words.. I'm not quote sure about this one, though..
Thanks for reading ^.^
Thanks for reading ^.^
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Comments1
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*happy tear for woodland creatures* So creative and well-woven!