PAD, day 6, revised

PAD, day 6, Revised

NOW THAT SHE'S FLED ME


I imagine her this way
Pocahontas in skins
lithe as the young doe
loping behind her
its tail risen like a flag

October leaves in browns and reds
the world turning toward
death and discovery
the fatal ship already on the horizon
etched on white clouds

the sky darkens
her hair blows back
as she runs