Midsummer
The young hare
on country roads,
blurred speed,
dance with danger.
–
Ears flat back along,
legs pumping, stretched out
in thumping rhythm.
–
Teenagers ‘vogue’
among foxgloves,
buttercups, daisies…
–
Identify fatal perfumes
inviting the innocent,
unwary sniff-er
to twitch
inquisitive noses
roadside.
–
Sudden glare
of spotlights
freeze-framed,
seconds
star struck
– THWACK!
–
My body
flies up,
stops.
Legs loosely
flap – fold.
–
Here lies…
with body stilled,
knees crossed
like a lady…
Frances Macaulay Forde © 2003
Text & Photos are Copyrighted: You are welcome to share what’s written here so long as the appropriate credit (my full name) is applied. Also ( as a courtesy) it would be good to know where and when my content is shared. Thanks. Frances.
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