…..
See that forest, and those trees
surrounding? They’re drowning
in their own un
-sea. Magic her a tiny cottage
with no wailings, a trail of
breadcrumbs she can bake
into something with a thicker
crust. Pull the ivy closer, re
-lease the smell of salt
or lake or something strong to
slake her weary thirst. Shade
in some turquoise, may
-be take down
those gingerbread doors and
let in the breeze. Let her
feel the
……..(lack of)
rain on her face, her own
small hands un
-wringing, her voice
unsinging her own syllables.
Lean near; these trees
may have some things
to say.
Don’t stray
…….too far.
There may
be wolves.
….
….
Prompted by Quickly in September, day 19.
Whimsygizmo's Blog 
A fairy-tale home – quite terrifying that last couple of lines.
I am enjoying your ‘theme’. Watch for the wolves indeed.
Once I did see a fox hopping in the snow of a windered yard…
I was caught unprepared at the end!
Have you gotten all that rain I’ve been hearing about?
Anyway, I love the “drowning in their own un” part! As well as the unwringing and unsinging.
Perhaps the woodcutter will come and cut all the trees down 🙂
Brilliant!! You nailed this concept, De…love the unsinging…
This…
“Let her
feel the
……..(lack of)
rain on her face, her own
small hands un
-wringing, her voice
unsinging her own syllables.”
I love what became of this for you. 🙂
I see “drowning in their own antsy” up there toward the top. I really like the multiple meanings in “hollow,” the hidden “howl” inside the word, and also “how low [can she go]” (and not in the good way; there may be some depression there). “in some turquoise May” is my favorite line. That part about the rain was clever. She wants to feel the rain on her face, but not her tears. Oh, look at this goodness: “ringing her voice, unsinging her own sigh labels.” That’s the best embedded phrase I’ve seen in some time! And doesn’t she do that?! ~Hurt herself by putting on the negative labels using her very own words. She’s calling herself names and causing her own pain. In the end, the wolf metaphor reinforces the fact that she feels alone, dark, lost in a forest, not entirely human … but wait. She may be a wolf (literally or figuratively), but you said “wolves.” So the good news is that she’s not truly alone. She has found at least one more of her own species.
A fantastic critique: you made me go and read the poem again!
Isn’t she the BEST, Viv? She makes me go and read my OWN work again and again.
Thanks. 😉 I do tend to get carried away.