One Battle in the War

He waited,
beneath green shadow
hunkered
weapons sharp and ready
to plunge
into a soft, unwary neck.

Quiet,
still he waited
as she strolled closer,
closer.
He could smell her,
feel her
hips swaying,
light steps innocent.
He could taste
victory.

He sprang.
She struck,
claws out,
hissing.
He retreated,
licked his wounds
and hunkered once more
beneath green shadow.
He waited.

From a prompt at First 50

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About grannysu

storyteller, writer, poet, gardener, countrywoman
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