Puckish

September 23, 2016 § Leave a comment

A Word Portrait.

They are bright eyes in the summer undergrowth, the white of fangs in a merry grin. The greenery grows through the cracks of concrete and stone, and there they are too, bursting with irrepressible life.

Fairy-bells chime like silver laughter. Dandelions and chamomile erupt out of a sidewalk seam. There is a synanthropy of fluttering feather and flashing fur in city back-alleys. They are green summer life blooming in unexpected places, in spaces designed to keep it out, in scaffolding steel and the earth paved over. And they are the wonder and pause in the bustle of grayscale life upon noticing, like a sudden breath or a break in the clouds, the abrupt color of petals or the subtle gleam of fox-eyes.

There’s resilience in this verdant softness, and a gentleness. There is the service-delight of brownie and the green-tending of the sprite, yet there is too the tender sensitivity of brush-tailed fox and child-wise Fool. They are emotions experienced whole and pure, with sorrow and hurt flaring as vibrant as joy and delight.

They are the softness of fur in a close warm den, the tumble of fox-kits with their coats sun-shining. They are the shining fall of water down a cliff-face. They are soothing spiced tea and the warmth of friendship deepened over a shared cup. They are summer intensity in all its greenery and emotion and heat.

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