Monday, March 7, 2011

Of Adventures with Poetry in Woods

1) Having carefully crossed the raging river on a snowy fallen tree, we paused seeking comfort in the words of Emily Dickinson. Alas, Emily foretold of dangers to come:

2) The Kiss of Death, only recently classified, hid waiting for another victim. Morgan could not resist this visual Siren call.

3) Having fatally kissed this new wonder, Morgan's initial euphoria quickly turns to hallucination.

4) Halfway to our journey's end we rest, looking at the mighty giant's backbone we have just trekked. Pocahontas (who was, as it turns out, many other people all at the same time (this may not make sense to any who were not there)) ponders this half accomplishment.

5) The troll stick, aka, my temporary walking cane, was freaking Morgan out so I decided to part with it.

6) We were moving so fast on the way back that my shoes caught on fire. Journey's end.


2 comments:

Rev. Scott Schultz said...

Baby? :-O

Wesley said...

A wonderful term with a wide semantic range...