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Vic Evora

bête noire

“The thing I fear most is fear.”
~ Michele de Montaigne

warm water bubbled up
the hot spring; as she minded
wet clothes she hung
on a string, between two poles
wild flowers on her hair;
she was briefly blinded
by the sun’s rays;
but she’d swear she saw ghouls!
 
warmed up by the sunbeams
she looked to the trees,
wet lips she puckered;
eyes squinted to narrow slits -
wild imagination rattled her,
she dropped to her knees,
aware of movements around,
fearful of evil spirits!
 
warm perspiration furrowed down
her brow and cheeks
wet sweaty palms gripped
the sharp glistening blade
wild birds, their mating calls,
she hears as she seeks
shadows from amongst the trees,
up along the glade
 
and as her nervous anticipation
almost burst her heart
bambi runs across the tree line!
and her fears depart!
 
03-16-2015
© Vic Evora

Bête noire - Something or someone that is anathema or to be avoided at all costs.

“But cruel are the times when we are traitors
And do not know ourselves, when we hold rumor
From what we fear, yet know not what we fear,
But float upon a wild and violent sea
Each way and move” ~ William Shakespeare

#2015

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