Friday, September 20, 2002

Poem of this blogging Cycle:
I started to pull the door open.
A growl.
A rasping, ominous rumble.
A portent. A promise.
I, frightened, shut the wardrobe door
(and held it, just in case),
Back in the old house.
The walls were new blue,
And still smelled like paint.

A deep breath.
I gently pulled back the door,
I don't know why I wanted to see the wolf,
But I did.
Another low growl.
Feral. Frightening.

And for that moment
I stood on the brink of bravery
And of death.
I forced myself to open the door and look inside.

As I did so,
An old, scratchy pillow
Slowly toppled out onto the floor.
It was my wolf,
It's rough surface being scraped against the door
Was my growling.

It didn't matter.

I had won.

--- Oddlyaromatic

I Chose a picture, I have no reason why this one. Maybe this is how I feel today, maybe I just like to feel this way, maybe I want people to think that I feel this way, maybe its just a nice picture... the merit of the picture came at the end... hmm.


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