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Gentle Creature

Gentle Creature Who calls you forth from beneath, the hung pine? Eyes of black coal, gentle swaying body, watching, curious, step forward. Spotted coat. Horn moles of bone, siblings brush past, play. You nuzzle the sweet grass. A twig snaps, ears flicker, you stop. A soft bleat, Mother's call. Back to the arms of the pine safe within the flora of green. A quick glance and, for a moment, I join your world of mystery.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2024




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