The Nut

quiet look, there he is, looking gray and down studying the earth appearing to be wrapped in thoughts remembering another one he glances toward the road the path for which he fears hat chew! startled he swings around fluid motion turns to sudden stillness desperately gasping for air heart thumping loud quiet heart not too loud for sound is not his friend feeling the predator watering his mouth seconds drift all hearts regulate, he gently rotates analyzing what he must have lost for memories fade always changing perhaps his last breathe hopefully, not today can he muster the strength this is his chance thoughts imprisoned running swiftly, loudly amongst his world for which we embark upon gliding gently down backed by eyes of blue thundering down to earth stirring the onlookers we adjust still unaware perhaps even without care destination achieved gathering his item he stands tall observing his exit not noticing the onlookers he quickly makes his farewell safely and peacefully the taste of victory fills his mouth what a nut we whisper in our minds quiet look, there he is, looking gray and down. js