Week Twelve
A Memory (1961) – A Sestina, Bluebells
She was a mere three feet tall trampling into the woods behind him to gather the slender green stemmed buebells gigantic trees surrounded her, their leaves singing in the wind looking down to pick up the chestnuts off the damp moss, blinking snowflakes of spotted darkness entered her eyes, yet still she smiled at her brother the noble warrior, explorer of the isolated woods holding back her nervousness from her brother she watched him grip his snake tripod and throw chestnuts at the tiny squirrels who dared to nibble on the bluebells he shooed them away into the density of the dark mysterious trail, where the sound of the wind seemed louder. The noise of the wind didn’t bother her mentor, her brother who stood all of four feet. At ease with the dark narrow path that led deeper into the woods, he yelled. “follow me, I see more bluebells.†Anxiety surged as she lost sight of her brother Who grew smaller running deeper into the woods. Despairful she clung to the bouquet of bluebells gathered for mother, but recognizing evening’s darkness she grabs the half-empty basket of chestnuts and hurries into the trail of talking winds. Dew drops dripped over the wilted bluebells, her eyes larger now than chestnuts. The psychotic Darkeness of the windy woods had taken her brotherYou did it girlfriend 🙂
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