rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,

Odd Vision

Sounds arrive, of distant cars passing and dogs barking, of rustling in bushes as birds settle for the night. The silent crescent moon slides down a pine branch and drops from sight. A few small clouds still reflect its dim glow, while the rest of the sky is a sprinkling of stars. I invent a new constellation, just above Orion's head. No longer The Hunter, he now totes an immense paper fan. Or maybe he has become a dancer in a movie ballet choreographed by Agnes DeMille, and I see him in mid-leap, trailing a vast billow of silk held aloft by a wind machine. He will soon pirouette into the arms of Gene Kelly, and they will kiss, briefly, before parting forever. Perhaps, somewhere, Cyd Charisse stalks a bear.
  • Post a new comment


    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.