Today’s offering is loosely, very loosely, based on the Word of the Day.
In the green years of a small life,
a black hole opened up, and
sucked her soul into it.
She became Small Shadow.
Small Shadow saw the world
in only the way a soulless being can.
She longed for the carefree days
when green led the way.
She lived in the red world,
mostly in dark corners
and curling around poles.
Smiling and performing.
She lived in the blue world,
under covers and behind shades,
popping pills and swigging bottles,
a medicated shadow.
She lived in the purple world,
with love bombs, then hails of fists,
under a studied annihilation of
the flecks of green remaining in her.
Travails through the lands
of red and blue and purple
convinced her green was
merely a lovely dream she’d had.
One evening, a shimmering owl
landed in a tree by the step where she sat
It spoke to her of dreams;
it told her to pay close heed.
Each night her dreams were filled
with sacred symbols: circles,
crones, flying fish, and peanut brittle.
They all told her go get what she’d lost.
She gathered her strongest allies.
She gathered the sacred symbols
from her dreams. She and
her allies adorned themselves with them.
The shimmering owl led the way.
They fell into the black hole,
lit by the owl’s glow. There, on a cushion
rested Small Shadow’s heart-shaped soul.
It disappeared. Then, Small Shadow’s chest
began to glow, lighting up the cavern.
She and her Allies turned into green butterflies
and burst out of the cave.
From that day forward, Small Shadow became
known as Little Green.
Her cottage by the glen remained a refuge
for wayward travelers until the end of her days.