Poetry

Poetry

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striped fynbos

we had tracked them for days
the silver horses
but only traces
of glitter leaf blade
and crystal droplets
we found.
i was the last one walking
of the weary tails
and wondering why.
when i turned a tree
a little bit so
caressing it to the side
a fleeting glimpse
caught me
in a spotlight
beyond the green-grey kaleidoscope –
the hill was shifting between my eyes
like the string that binds a book
along the hill’s solar plexus
a midrib moved
only for a million mile minute
and only i
was there to follow
the pure black and white
the five and a half unicorn
surprise.
~ By Taniia Strauss ~
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