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Gallop is the meter chased unfound

a trot a walk

now stopped.

In dark woods full of tripsy vines

and low thick branches face facing ducked

We crouch. Whispers too loud

fingers point and trace a scent or step

the secret stalking commences.

~ An attempt at a different form. What d'ya think?

I know, it's odd... Odd's not always bad, just wonder if this is?

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  • 3 weeks later...

~ Oh good grief... I bubble? {Maybe burp sometimes! :unsure: }

Y'know? I work well with challenge, so now another Afternoon ? {Just 'cause!}

~ Just An Afternoon...

Lemonade catches moths on Gramma's table

dressed with tarnished silver speckled like a cousin's face.

Far-off shouts blend with the clatter of melting ice

but the tree stands so cool...

High above like a hawk Aunty frowns with dark eyes,

a hand clasped to run in the orchard replaces all...

Branches catch at, never caught, the run plays on.

~ That's a memory of mine. :dntknw:

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