lundi 20 juin 2011

Cradling a pair of puppies

Cradling a pair of puppies at your bared breast with a small humming tune can be a martial art, also a funny thing, laughing all the way down to the woods to wail from the edge for the body of a hiding young animal which still feels somewhat uncomfortable. I have to admit sometimes I growl and the grass flutters like a real person walking backwards past a mountain in a way that makes the mountain look it's mooving is an optical wonder. A scattering of white flowers clings to the stone wall for warmth in November. I lay my rifle down and take a long, earnest look at every one. And for a while I kneel. And then for a while I stand.

Elizabeth Zuba, in Versal Nine, 2011, p. 64. Thanks to Jennifer K. Dick for making me discover this text.

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