This is written purely to meet a WordPress daily challenge…and to amuse me.

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Not the belly of a dragon,
as strange as that may seem.
The beast’s heart
smears that dark

with a sinster light,
but a light nonetheless.
Not a troll’s thoughts,
as empty as they generally are.

A rusted bucket
holds more water
than that monster’s intellect
grasps clarity,

but, still, a troll will stoop
to sniff a rose, an incense
known to carve coherence
in the dullest of dulls.

But the shadows
that insulate the underside
of an oak’s leaf,
if gently scraped off,

with a pine needs
or a sparrow’s feather,
and stored in a shoebox
hidden in an attic

confused with cobwebs
and ghost stories,
those shadows
will indeed be black.



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