The dog bit me in the ass, I don’t know why, it
just happened.
I was running through the shrubs and small trees
chasing birds and flying things.
Something would catch my eye, a flicker of
color, a change in the light. Anything out of the
ordinary would be cause for investigation. I’ve
never been in this area before, it’s all new.
Adrenaline pumping virgin territory, the
promise of adventure saturates the senses, I can
think of nothing else.
The smell of wet wildgrass almost masks the
odor of mildew rising from the leaves rotting on
the not too distant forest floor.
My shoes are soggy from trampling through the
tall weeds, my shirt is soaked from sweat.
It is still early morning, normal people wouldn’t
be up this early. This is the time that I would
find my solitude and isolation, my time for
adventure.
So much quiet surrounds me, I can feel the pulse
of the earth itself. Small insects trample the trail
ahead of me leaving little foot prints from their
passing. I cannot even disturb these tiny signs
with their almost Zen like beauty. Every grain
of sand sits untouched by intruders such as me.
He came from no where this creature that
disrupted a harmony I rarely feel. Not a single
yelp echoed from its lips.
Searing pain screamed up my back, my legs
burned from the rush of pain.
The damned animal wouldn’t let go no matter
what I did. I screamed in horror, cried in pain,
writhed from the agony, and finally I scored him
where only he would lick.
He lumbered off with a whimper and a limp.
The sands I admired with poetic grace stare
back at me in pity. These simple grains wet
from the night, trampled by creatures of my
imagination now sit glued to my face as I lay in
the weeds and dirt of what I once found to be
tranquil.
Blood drips from where I cannot see, puddling
in the vanilla soil. Little things that I had
admired in the not too distant past come running
to feed on my weakness, filthy vile creatures. I
would stomp them if I could, my peace is ruined
why should they be so happy.
A bird sings on a branch from one of the near
shrubs oblivious to my presence and my
whimpers. The wind starts to pick up brushing
the branches of the trees in a sea of movement.
The sun rises and the day begins, awakening
creatures I once thought to be lifeless. A
kaleidoscope of color unfolds above me, colors I
would not have seen had I been chasing them
into the shadows.
Subtle nuances brush the hair from my eyes,
simple life continues in front of me, blood drips
from my jeans, my butt is numb.
Colors fade, birds become smaller, sand has
become something to walk on, wild shrubs have
become weeds. Sour tastes rise into my mouth.
Nature has continued without me I don’t belong
here.
CHRISTOPHER S. BUTCHER
November 18, 1999 |
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