Monday, 24 March 2014

I Saw Him On A Brown March Day...

I saw him on a brown March day, one of those end of winter days where the trees still held their murky sway. The tiny buds, fresh round curls of leaf on the branch tips, and confetti-like snowy blossoms were the only sign that the still quiet world was readying to be rent by clambering green life. He walked straight across the copse clearing, the dark spindles of sleeping trees mirrored down among his antlers, he twisted them up and gazed towards the sky, the drab clouds passed us by, ignoring everything but the sullen winds.

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