Wednesday, February 27, 2013

LoPoWriMo #27

Where The Condors Fly

Lenny was an adventuring spirit
a born fool

Across the strange dream grass
on the flatland of baldore
milk-eyes gored through him
The dream woman-girl approached
but said nothing
He hurried into a frenzy
They ran past each other
She was impulsive
"Your doom is near"
he recalled the warning
by his tribe's medicine man
He saw her suddenly smiling at him
above the white peaks of gladeer
sadness flooded into his eye
She had caught a wave in the sky and was gone

starved for attention
he ran away

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