Monday 28 April 2014

Deluge of the year.

The forest is wet.

Spring is snarling, showing her teeth.

Butterflies remain in hiding, only the frogs are happy.

Beneath the oak trees, gorse flourishes– yellow runs wild amongst the green.

And there, between oak and gorse, is the track.

There is a man on the track.

Hidden by a thick cape drawn about him, he passes silently between the trees.

A startled deer watches him, but he is no threat so she doesn’t run.

The man senses this and stops and turns.

Against the green of the forest, the yellow of the gorse and the dark colours of the sky his blue eyes surprise the deer and she runs into the shadows.

The man looks up to the heavens and feels the rain falling on his face.

He licks his lips; he is thirsty.

He sighs deeply, and the warmth of his breath clouds the air.

Head down he continues on his way.

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