Ball of Fluff

The pavement hissed with each splash of foot in puddle from a fresh summer rain.
The sun slunk behind the clouds.
The heat wafted like billowing smoke from the blacktop.

Pressing onward, we heard a shuffle
The emerald blades shifted
Grey, black, and white meshed, messing with the blades’ perfectionistic visage.

Rolling and padding paws
Batting and befuddled little heads gazed towards us.
One swam in our narrow shadows

Tentatively, he peered and stretched his neck outward as the fluffy black and grey stayed mismatched among the grass blades.

Would he ?
Could he dare to come near ?

We were so eager.
Our voices stayed hushed.
Our tones kind and gentle.

The little white ball of fluff edged closer.

The sky drained of color.
Charcoal spilled across the cloudy plain.
Wetness swam in the air, heavy and smelling of angel tears to fall.
One fat tear plopped loudly on the pavement.

The white ball of fluff was gone.

1 Comment

  1. If I could have an angel
    who would summon my tears in its fluff…
    who
    understood
    the way the air is
    and
    sang when everything tore and bled…
    who said:
    “I get it.
    how your world cannot play with the sting of these things…
    and I’ll hold you
    anyway.”

    Liked by 1 person

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