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Prelude to a Strike
I had come to a small hill which led to a leafy field.
Evening comes and dusk is behind me and as I make my way down
I realize there are trees shrouding this gilded path and that all around me
the day was waking up, lighter, slightly regretful and a little weary from
the night before. Tousled. Tousled and light.
To the left my eye was caught. A sharp turn into clearness.
The trees had all but disappeared and in this stark morning light I am
softened as all floats along. Somehow I am inclined to drift along with
this welcome flow.
Hand in hand with contentment all is happening as it should and things
are refreshingly easier. Surfaces pass before something stings, sharp
and pointed I am fully understanding that her presence is there.
She is an older woman with an absence of menace so I follow her and
realize as we climb up and up and up that the wall is embryonically
perpendicular way above the lower stories and beyond and the next
feeling, the moment of sick, is a cry to fall, to go down beyond.
Higher. Faster. Soar.
Written by Renee Soediarto
Cover Photo: N 44° 7' 20" 0 145° 4' 55"
Barcode and Other Identifiers
- Matrix / Runout (Runout text): Stealthy, healthy and vicious they roam