The Doe I follow her trail through a forest of ferns, over blow-downs, through brambles of blackberries. The going is rough on this granite-blanketed mountainside. She moved silently while I burst through — huffing and cursing her nimble feet and my awkward feet. I lose her after the hoof mark in the stream's ochre mud. This forest has cloaked her and rebuked me. |
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A wonderfully written post! Thanks for sharing!
ReplyDelete-Weasel
You paint a great scene with your words. Nice one.
ReplyDeleteI was there as you depicted that...!
ReplyDeleteI have Internet Explorer and your blog looks fine.
ReplyDeleteNice, Andrée. I had a feeling the poet wouldn't catch up with the doe. You did it good!
ReplyDelete..
I feel like I have taken the walk with you. To be so intent in the pursuit but evaded nevertheless....They do that.
ReplyDeleteThanks for this.
i was with you all throughout this journey. sometimes you just cant get all what you want hehe
ReplyDeleteDid forest really rebuke you? I looked in awe the scene created by you..
ReplyDeletesounds as though your doe is in her home of homes... you are the visitor. I saw the ochre mud.
ReplyDeleteWonderful visual!
ReplyDeleteVery imaginative. Well done.
ReplyDeleteGive me a holler if you come to CT next week. Summer school starts Tuesday, but I will be around. 203-560-8936!
ReplyDeleteAmazing! nice imagery :))
ReplyDeleteDelightful to read...you have sketched it perfect!
ReplyDeleteLovely, and makes one feel so close to nature!
ReplyDeleteGreat read. I love how you paint your images with words.
ReplyDelete...now that was a wonderful journey.... thank you for the fotos too...
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