Zywa
Companions
Not a path, but an abyss
Cold wind, threatening clouds
It is inhospitable here
Diagonally in front of me
black leaves crunch open
Straight from the ground
Owls grow from them
they inflate themselves
thoughtful as they are
As if they could fly
they are close to the edge
to keep me from a false step
Behind me, I hear them
shrivel
When I look back quickly
the remnants pretend nothing
is going on, but if I do it calmy
they are completely gone
|