The sound of hounds

under the sycamores pulsed

the air.  A fog shadowed the

ground, concealing weeds and

rocks.  A horn, a phantom sound

suspended above,

Slithered like a snake over tree

tops.  Fence posts boarded the

field, like cardboard soldiers locking

barbed wire arms.  A brown light of

dusk muddied the sky.  Bats easily

curved swiftly above.  Tree shadows

resembled black veins until night

faded the images out.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s