as she looked down

her mate pounced,

grey dirt mingling with the damp air

behind him,

he flew against the gold green sky,

free from the barriers of mortals,

she purred,

mistaken for thunder,

it drove them to hide in flimsy wood and stone shelters,


she padded ,

eyes half hidden under heavy lids

her claws on occasion scraping against frozen slivers

within the soft blanket of grey

at infrequent intervals sparks screamed down

as arrows tied to her bow,

exploding as they reached the damp earth

while the sun sought her quietude,

men trembled in their playground,

ignorant prey things.


  1. LIkes the image. ‘She purred’ is interesting. A very different take of lightning and thunder storms that has never occurred to me. ‘Men trembled in their playground’, this could be me. I guess I was in a playground of sorts. Camping and sleep in a tent when ‘she’ struck. I lived and 4 other people did not. I guess ‘she’ liked me or I got off lucky. I don’t think she is one who picks and chooses.


    1. Thanks Hook – took that photo yesterday evening driving home from Tauranga (after missing out on seeing Leo in Edgar…boo hoo), and when I was looking at it all I could see were cats playing. Charlie is having way too much influence on me !


  2. When I read the first few lines that are visible in the email I had no idea that this was to follow, as Hook says this is very emotive and packed with imagery.


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