The foothills are rueful and evasive today <br />Their outline glow seems palled and <br />The twilight reluctant to give up the light <br />The sun a dull emboss on weak pink, <br />With rays like wrinkled fingers crawling. <br />A lethargic passing of a day <br /> <br />Clasped by avian claws a hare’s mangled fur <br />Wriggly worms feasting on rotting mouse <br />Crafty spider weaving zombie bags <br />An aloof mantis lops off her lover’s head <br />A woodsman felling venerable trees <br />The air reeking with scents of battered wood <br /> <br />I promised to keep this to myself <br />As I looked away from the scene <br />I shudder to think of the mayhem <br />Happening everyday in a sleepy glade <br />But, some things in the foothills <br />Are better left veiled in gorgeous green<br /><br />Eddie Roa<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-foothills-2/
