A Dialogue, A Monologue, by Vana Kingsley

Strawberry Thief, design pattern by William Morris (England) 1883

A Dialogue, A Monologue

Ugh. Red-handed. 
And, what's worse? More fool him.

At this early hour,
when the crook-fond night 
in its beneficence curls
among the dewy eyelets in the brush,
He could've been the glint on a spider's web. 
He could've been the bowstring curve of a drinking leaf
poised in blended shadow.

Just the
languorous claws of pink-red fruit
in a ruffling wind. Not him, 
no, not rifling.
Listen, just 
the mark. Not the grifter, 
his indigo wings a stroke of richness in the briars,
his belly an ivory blossom in the mottled dawn.

(Below… Below!
That friend, that clumsy lookout,
that sleepless yellow wisp
with eager eyes smudged open,
flags,
and the heat, the colour, the sound
is nitroglycerin)
​
Oh, for the love of…!
Maybe he thought he could be
sharp-edged, as the flower,
if he unburdened his beak.
But he couldn't be the damned flower 
if he tried.

So, more fool him.
What else to do but take the prize and fly?
Let him be the burglar.
Let him be the sighted thief.

Poor creature, poor silly friend. 
Let him get caught.

Vana Kingsley

Vana Kingsley is a hobbyist writer living in New England with her grumpy-faced cat Patroclus and trusty aussie Quill. She is enthusiastic about whimsy, and most inspired by themes in nature, mythology, and folklore.