
A frothy mixture of terror, and tantalization, and it was somewhere in the woods beside her, those eyes - beading, broken, savage in the woods.
Rated: Fiction K - English - Words: 193 - Reviews: 4 - Published: 08-27-09 - Status: Complete - id: 2714607
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-1Bigfoot
Country
It's
a rhythmic scent, or
the dog barking wildly, feral
teeth spread
underneath a canopy
of greenery -
when you think you see
what
you thought was only a myth, or
so she says;
but
she told me
and
of all the things she has done
she would not lie to me.
And
it comes up in conversation
every once in a while, because
after
all this is Bigfoot
Country
and
if you didn't grow up here
you feel laughable and left out
of
the conversation
but us natives weave tales
like old maids
- because we
know; because this is
Washington, and this is
what
it feels to walk through the
yellowing woods and think
you
hear what might only be a myth.
And she says she saw
what
could not
have been, or rather
smelled it in North Bend,
with the dog
salivating, a frothy
mixture of terror, and tantalization,
and
it
was
somewhere in the woods
beside her, those eyes - beading,
broken,
savage in the woods
all around her.
But she
told me,
and of all the things she has done
she would not lie
to me.
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