Morning grey presses, urgently, against midnight blue
Lifting, straining, shrugging of shoulders
Underbelly of clouds, mirror morning rays
Heavens smeared, early morning hours
Rich pastel shades, sifting, blended
Each indecipherable, swiftly they move
Days heat pregnant, yet to come
Crisp air fractures, warmth seeps through
Blue night mood to pastel light,
Caresses my burdens, teasing, frays
Landscape sharpens, colour stronger
Reflected view, deeper still in the lake
Magpies warble, palette warming
Calling 'sun...up', loose horizons tether
Spinning, climbing, chasing the light
Mood raised, nights' surrender
Morning light, punctures my soul
Releasing night heaviness, thoughts unending
Intimate, gracious, tender, wise
Possibilities promised, depression upended
About the Creator
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Long Thaw
Danaki stood, uncomprehending. At fifteen years old, she had never seen anything like what lay before her. For the last three years she had been leaving the village on her own foraging trips. She would never walk more than the low rising sun just reaching its apex.
By Steven De Booy4 years ago in Fiction
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For the Instructions Included challenge, we asked writers to tell a story through instructions and to trust the form to carry what could not be said outright. Across the top entries, that trust paid off in many different ways.
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