Hour 18: Flight


The hunter cometh

I feel his footsteps

His bow he raises

I must escape, but where?


About this poem:

Another experiment with form. This is my first foray into this particular type of syllable-count poetry. It's absolutely a coincidence that at eighteen hours in, it also happens to be a short form that one could easily bang out in a few minutes and then nap until the nineteenth hour. Absolutely.

Form/Style: Naani
Rhythm/Metre: Free
Rhyme/Scheme: 21 syllables. 5, 5, 5, then 6.
Themes and Tone:
An apparent allusion to the 'fight or flight' instinct. Panic, danger, fear. The need to escape, the feeling of entrapment. This can easily be read as literal or as metaphor. 

The End

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