and guided in the maze Of grass and dirt only to skirt certain peril From many foes that the nose only knows Upwind they would usually be very Easy to smell before hearing the Raucous clashing of the motor to metal to meat Then the cursed CANINE fiends would charge Huffing and puffing as the trolls Make thunder clap snaps that tapped the dirt but Occasionally would cause a dear friend or acquaintance to Simply POP and STOP in place to only die as we run and Find our hiding places But this all pales in comparison for the commodore of the context Who never seems to sleep and loves to eat us the most They have a special way of knowing we know to move Like a hive mind, we try to move in symphony But simply seem to be here on this field Both hungry for something we can see and feel Something we can almost touch but never hold on to As we run faster to find it Fly higher and quieter looming as we swoon for the bit Of toast we most need to feed the tiny ones Who need us too But always we know as they circle the space we share They seem to know who isn’t well or who can tell They are more scared and zag left rather than zig right In pure impulse only to feel the embrace of the Wind as it begins to descend so ominous Like a blanket of onyx upon a grease fire The moment is suspended as we glance a fleeting Glimpse of a wing and a KLAW so regal The talons sparkle with joy as the rays of the sun bounce back Upon the gust of wind pushing back up GLEN’S eyes open wide looking back down at us as though to say Goodbye but at least they tried and we did too But they were quicker and so is the way The hole that we call home shall not be our grave For we shall die on the field of battle or flying towards the heavens Only to blink and kiss the sky (7:59 a.m. | 12.11.23) Summa facta incipit a minimis gradibus (The greatest of feats begins with the smallest of steps) FOLLOW FOR MORE WORK — IG: @UZIEGO | TUMBLR: @WTFCRAIGSLISTNYC ART BY RAFAL KULIK
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