image: Uzengia Aleksander Nedic
I see her silhouette
against the colbalt sky
late spring sun is setting
moments away
I crouch here
in the thicket off the path
my breathing shallow
as the blackbird calls to his mate
shrill and clear
my knees are black with decayed leaves of last autumn
they are stiff with the exertion of stillness
our walking talk of fairy tales
babes in the wood
wolves and red cloaks
are evading her imagination
she has called and called
in that voice
slightly breathless now
the rasp of fear
one more minute
and i will appear
then relief
will turn to anger
I will get a slap for my prank.