deepundergroundpoetry.com

A Sound!

A sound! She turns her head,
pricks up her ears and tail.
Her skin tingles beneath her
brown and white fur.
A sound! It whispers lightly
across the grass,
the patches of ancient yellow
and gleaming green, aged paper
and scintillating emerald,
across the fleeting footsteps
of the breeze as it coaches the
oaks to bend and dance.
Not music, something more.
Not silence, less.
A sound! It echoes off the pure snowy
white and scarlet rose of the home behind her.
A sound! Even the ants hearken.
A sound! She bays and sprints and halts; the couple behind calls her back.
They outline this sensible, logical,
incomprehensible expostulation
for her to return.
It's inconceivably important that she should turn about and see what the monkeys want.
   She bays and sprints towards the sound,
burning with curiosity.
No sound.
It's gone.
Oh well.
Written by scarletegret (Sasha Fenn)
Published
Author's Note
A more lighthearted piece; don't remember exactly when I wrote it, but it was handwritten and I think I wrote it quite a long while ago.

The indent before "She bays..." was in the original; I don't remember why I had it but I liked the mystery of wondering why I had included it, the sense of a sprint ahead that one could take from it, and the mild novelty of unusual formatting, so I kept it.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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