On a tree of rust, lay Hooley
With his creeper arms dangling low.
He took a breath and then a dagger
To slit into the tender greens of the dying leaf.
Mother shook in terror like a windling whirlpool
Rising from the bed of corals until her fluid locks touched the clouded aqua horizon.
"Heed ho! Heed!"
Hooley had to be paid for his sins.
Categories:
hooley, abuse, adventure, art, change,
Form: Prose Poetry