WILD

ByEvian Keen

There’s a new one out here. We’ve seen him before, maybe his kind at least. I don’t know what the point is, why they come here. The adventure, perhaps. Maybe it’s the raw grittiness.

They’re like freshly cut grass, perfectly poised and groomed. Never allowed to run free, bend and dance in elegant sway, scattering seeds, beckoning fowl and land roamer alike. Carefully tamed, unmingled.

I should like to see them free. Every blade and every sway, even through portals to unseen worlds. Wild. Untamed. Becoming. What’s always been.

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