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A Highland Farewell
A rushing of air.
Drapes wave a violent hello.
The door closes
like a giant exhalation.
The kilted man
cat-foots his way in.
His sword in hand
like a giant fang.
His lady appears.
Sword and targe
clatter to the floor
as he rushes to her.
They urgently embrace;
urgent, for he's a trail.
A trail the lairdie's hounds
are keen on following.
Whispered tears.
Servants hushed
but moving fast
bringing his kit.
He swears he'll send word
She nods, knowing
he'll be on the run.
Any word'll be bad.
He gathers her once again
A final kiss
He springs away,
grabs his kit.
His sword in hand
fanged like a hunted cat,
He's out the back way
like a shadow.
A rushing of air.
Drapes wave a violent farewell.
The door closes
like a giant sigh.
Jillian Ramsay Stern 11/09/2000 |
