Dogs howl, as is their wont. 

The cold moon rises, her blank face pierced by branches turned naked and brittle. All trees are leafless at this time of year, bark rimed with frost.

My breath hangs, shimmering in the freezing air, and the iridescent image swims through a mirror that flows like liquid silk. I frown at such misplaced fancy. It is only a river reflecting evidence of my vitality. 

A river… A chance.

The bloodhounds remain far distant yet. I brace myself against the cold and step into the freezing depths, gritting my teeth. 

I wade agains the current, skin, muscles, bones aching in protest, my greatcoat sagging, dragging heavy with water. 

Until the wretched creatures lose my scent, here I must remain. I plead, to any great benefactor who might hear my prayers, for clouds, mist, a dense fog. 

For my freedom.

Over at dVerse Poets Pub, it’s time for a bit of Prosery, courtesy of Dora. She has asked us to create a piece of prose, fiction or non-fiction, to include the following line from Stanley Kunitz’s most famous poem, King of the River:

“. . . and the iridescent image swims
through a mirror that flows.”

I haven’t written a Prosery for some time, so this is a fun diversion from my usual poetic adventures. it must consist of maximum 144 words, and while the line can include different punctuation, it cannot be otherwise changed. I truly enjoyed incorporating this line into my fiction piece, and I hope it fits well into my narrator’s thoughts.

If you want to join us in this poetry adjacent journey, head on over to dVerse and dive in!

(Image courtesy of Muhammed Zeya on Pexels).