My Laboured Breaths
The heavy set thump of white tailed deer
As they charge away across the streams wet clay
They caught in its tight slippy narrow confines
Their panic palpable
But short lived
As easy their powerful strides carry them up and away from me and the dogs’ agog
Dun red and the orange of this years bracken Oak leaves under foot
Their crinkle patterns as we slog by this glorious winter’s day
Promised for snow
Now sleety biting rain
Breathe you fool
Another day is the day for sorrows
Not today
My laboured breaths as I push uphill
Wow!
I thought so to Ankur!
Nice mate. And here I thought all you did was clipart ginger taches onto buildings or famous people’s faces.
Read on me old china!
Wonderful – thank you for sharing:)
Most welcome
Beautiful! I could feel the relief from one and the acceptance from the other. Lovely!
Thanks Debra – one of his best
Wow, Jim. Beautiful!
I know – I keep telling him to put a book out or set his own blog up…..but thankfully for me he doesn’t!
Very well done!
Cheers
Absolutely beautiful. I found myself holding my breath. Does that mean it was breathtaking?
Sure does Michelle – I love the line about leaving sorrows for another day
Wonderful, Jim.
On of his best I think