Saturday, August 04, 2012

unleashed: faster than her shadow can keep pace

I thought she was playing. romping the edge of brush. legs high. prancing. frisky. plunging deeper in. almost thicket like the minuet grove. fluttering gust the fawn flew from her branch strewn nest. fleet of foot. thank god. the field crossed before I even fully functioned. the flash of her spots a running blur. the Dopt low, black, and full out. so smooth the ground could not even shake with her ferocious force, for not a bob or lumbering lunge but instead an unpuppy - like sleek shadow in flight. oh god don't kill the new born beast. I am whistling. shrill. repetitively. I call. no blood. please. no blood. the distance grows. the sounds recede hardly before they began. whistling still. come here. come here. I worried I've lost her either to the wood or as killing beast. I walk. I whistle. come here. come here. seems forever but finally I hear her name plate's strike and rattle. her tongue lolls out. the spittle clear.. the day still oven hot. she as i, spent. no blood. sitting. fully pleased with herself. satisfied. leashed now at my side. grrr. a few curves some distance gained and I release the panting sleek shadow beast. she hurries homeward for her tin of agua. I pace. my normal speed. gravel crunching. sweat trickles even in the eve. more young spotted beasts frozen stiff. hesitant to long. a new flight insues. a pair. my beast faster than her shadow can keep pace. dang. I worry all over again about the change if she kills. frustrated now for her release. whistle and call. wait. I worry. I fidget in wait. more leashed evenings to come and a bell. a belled pup so flights may begin sooner, a better head start for the pursued.

how is it that this very morn she humbly nuzzled the wheel chair bound. approaching each bowed low. easing up for permissions. bottom planted, she leans into their legs. head on lap. nuzzling arm with licks of belonging. with them I worry as they lean forward to cuddle and caress my beast. leaninging out. snuggling. I worry for gravity surges that might pull the lean beyond repair. I worry.

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