Ravings

Penny White
There is a face
in the oak tree,
its eyes are hollow black,
its mouth a cold slit
and it is watching,
watching.

Is it the face of a guardian
protecting us from harm?
Is it that of a vagrant
lost and looking for home?
Or is it an entity
with cruel intent?

I cannot tell.
The face hides there within the leaves
and moves each time the wind blows.

Wait!
The face has gone.

I swear to you
it was there.

Published by Penny White

Writer since the age of ten and artist for the last few years. A big fan of NCIS, Dean Koontz and women's history. I write empowering and uplifting words for women found at www.penspen.info. I am also servan...  View profile

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