Monday, September 19, 2005


She runs through the wilds
Branches scratch the skin
Forehead shimmers
Her eyes wide
Fear written in her lips
She stumbles and almost falls
Her hand is torn open
As the oak catches her fall
She peers behind her
Is he still there?

The beast ever present
The god whose heart she stole
He chases, is relentless
Knowing the chase will kill her
The fool keeps coming
And she still runs

Her heart is racing
She can hear him coming
Breaking branches
Kicking up rocks
His panting carries
In the cold night
She finds her footing
And is off once more

The trees seem to want
To hinder, to hold back
She fights, rips, defaces
The wall of trees immobile
Any type of penetration
Almost impossible
Then, she finds a hole
And the woods break open

Her feet touch water
She stops, the glade impassable
No where to run, her head tilts up
Crescent moon dancing in her eyes
For a moment she is calm
Then the echo of pursuit
Reaches her ears
And her feet take root
Skin turns to bark
Fingers form branches
Hair becomes leaves
"Thank you," she whispers
And the river replies
"You are safe now, my daughter"
And slowly, she bends into a laurel

Ed Kidhardt

3:48 PM


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