"This is the last time asshole" I look around to see where the voice is coming from. "So make it count." I recognized this voice "because if you don't.." the voice speaking to me trailed of into the sounds of the wind and wildlife sounds pacing around myself.
"If I don't what?" I yell back into the forest to the North of me. "Make what count?" It seemed as though the forest was snickering. "What! The last time I yell at myself?" The sound of the grasses in the field to the South of myself settled and all sound stilled. "Good! About time you caught up to yourself!"
Replacing the shoes I was wearing I must of ran one hundred and fifty miles through the forests and fields, collecting wind in my pockets to carry me for the next two hundred miles or more before putting my feet on the floor "a complete waste of time." I closed the door behind myself, and undressed, hanging my clothes with pockets full of wind before getting ready to be going to sleep "Asshole? am I now?" I passed wind on the way to bathroom. The pockets full of wind caught wind of my plan and was devastated after trying to change to direction. The wind had been trapped.
YOU ARE READING
New poetry book or...
PoetryShort story, long stories, stories that must rhyme and by written poetically, I think. I might add my earlier poems to this collection also.
