Just another Tuesday night.
Her knee’s stuck in the mud as the twigs lashed her face in torment of her beauty.
The sky darkened and groaned as the tree arched and moaned, gnarled hands dragged her flailing awkwards.
Falling downwards to a cloud of woods.
A flock of doves flew and they knew,
Grabbed ankles through the roots of tree shoots as the wind kicks up a new noose and she gasps as her shoes fall loose.
Her eyes roll momentarily as a raven lands and tells her soul that she’s found a new man to call home.
© G.P Williamson 2017