Ursa tale # 32 of 64
Ursa Went to the Famous Caves
Someone had built a hotel around them. American honeymooners liked to stay there, making love on the black satin sheets, making love under the gun rack, making love near the mouths of the caves. Ursa sat in the corner and looked. Sweet cold air came out of the caves as if they were breathing. The cave tunnels echoed with the sound of the hunt. Some of the tunnels were lined with bricks and some were much older, carved out of rock. The gun rack held antique rifles, and the ones higher up were older. Large bore rifles that could break your shoulder with a kick. The black satin bed trembled from the love spasms of two naked Americans. Ursa heard a weak whisper from another place. The sound came from an old man, a hunter who crouched in the shadows. A bloodhound stood by, and a wolf. A big elk walked in the shadows. “Save your,” the old man said, “energy. For the hunt.” On the bed, the naked one had a frustrated look. Maybe that one felt anxious about hunting. The naked other waited, gripping satin. The elk walked up and nuzzled that other one's cheek. The old man creaked and stood. His trembling hand reached to the top of the gun rack, brushing away cobwebs and dust. The bloodhound got ready to bay, and the wolf got ready to tear out the bloodhound’s throat. There was moaning, but Ursa couldn’t tell who, or from where. Ursa Went to the Famous Caves
Someone had built a hotel around them. American honeymooners liked to stay there, making love on the black satin sheets, making love under the gun rack, making love near the mouths of the caves. Ursa sat in the corner and looked. Sweet cold air came out of the caves as if they were breathing. The cave tunnels echoed with the sound of the hunt. Some of the tunnels were lined with bricks and some were much older, carved out of rock. The gun rack held antique rifles, and the ones higher up were older. Large bore rifles that could break your shoulder with a kick. The black satin bed trembled from the love spasms of two naked Americans. Ursa heard a weak whisper from another place. The sound came from an old man, a hunter who crouched in the shadows. A bloodhound stood by, and a wolf. A big elk walked in the shadows. “Save your,” the old man said, “energy. For the hunt.” On the bed, the naked one had a frustrated look. Maybe ve felt anxious about hunting. The naked other waited, gripping satin. The elk walked up and nuzzled ver cheek. The old man creaked and stood. His trembling hand reached to the top of the gun rack, brushing away cobwebs and dust. The bloodhound got ready to bay, and the wolf got ready to tear out the bloodhound’s throat. There was moaning, but Ursa couldn’t tell who, or from where. |
Ursa Went to the Famous Caves
Someone had built a hotel around them. American honeymooners liked to stay there, making love on the black satin sheets, making love under the gun rack, making love near the mouths of the caves. Ursa sat in the corner and looked. Sweet cold air came out of the caves as if they were breathing. The cave tunnels echoed with the sound of the hunt. Some of the tunnels were lined with bricks and some were much older, carved out of rock. The gun rack held antique rifles, and the ones higher up were older. Large bore rifles that could break your shoulder with a kick. The black satin bed trembled from the love spasms of two naked Americans. Ursa heard a weak whisper from another place. The sound came from an old man, a hunter who crouched in the shadows. A bloodhound stood by, and a wolf. A big elk walked in the shadows. “Save your,” the old man said, “energy. For the hunt.” On the bed, the naked one had a frustrated look. Maybe that one felt anxious about hunting. The naked other waited, gripping satin. The elk walked up and nuzzled that other one's cheek. The old man creaked and stood. His trembling hand reached to the top of the gun rack, brushing away cobwebs and dust. The bloodhound got ready to bay, and the wolf got ready to tear out the bloodhound’s throat. There was moaning, but Ursa couldn’t tell who, or from where.  COLORING PAGE
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(Word > Prose Poems > Ursa and the Animals) |
posted 7 July 2013
