prose poem ii

I'll use your world to write in for a time. Mine is dull and insentient where yours is full of life. The blank panorama of my page could use some cheery hills, though looming mounds would serve me just as well. If you don't mind I'll borrow the cottage nestled in the woods and even take the lurking wolf besides. His grizzled jowl and dripping fangs are fierce but even that will better this naked set. Your skinny trees with many knots and too few leaves will add depth where there now is none, and thistle bushes, while not lovely rose, will add a certain homeyness. I'll even take the grandma with her crooked back and warty nose. Her cloak, black as death and just as ragged, hides beneath its folds endless fear and mystery, but the blood flows warm within her veins, in any case, and can't be worse than the cold in my world now.