
Inevitable
March 8, 2010The way she stood, it looked as if she sang the moon. Thoughtful light rose from her lips, and for a moment, it was as if she was solely responsible for the coolly cast shadows of the trees. He held his breath, wondering if he could hold all of it together. But moons rise and girls close their mouths, then run through the woods, spilling laughter as they go.
Beautiful imagery. Like a poem.
Querulous Squirrel, thank you.