She walked, as the light once more fell out of the day. The green lane, so overgrown, already held the twilight and slowly released it into the darkening sky. She walked, searching for dragons, and Martha went with her. Owl eyed, snake tailed, moon clawed Martha, a bright flame of red gold in the dimity light.
Beneath their feet moths rose in small clouds. All but the dance of the moths was stillness. The wind held her breath. The sea flat calm. Only the occasional sound of wings stirred the silence.
It was as if this small part of the world was waiting.
It almost infuriates me, the way you can just come out with this stuff day after day! Have you got a poetry machine in the attic?
ReplyDeleteEnviously yours,
Nick & cats
I wish. My attic is so crowded with stuff! But soon I will have no builders and more space.
ReplyDeleteIf here is a poetry machine here will find it, clone it and sell it!
My cats send love to your cats. I am still searching for the dragons, but finding other things instead.
Maybe I should stop looking and let them find me!
You on facebook?