She found it in the grove of cedars—

Her favourite haunt on a hot summer day—

Half-hanging,

Half-devoured,

Fully coupled with the trunk.

 

Whining, scenting something we couldn’t,

She cowered beneath the ancient cedar.

We found her there when she didn’t answer our calls.

 

She looked at me.

Then at the tree.

Stayed right where she was.

She whimpered.

 

When I approached, I felt it also. 

Sinister. 

A third presence

Lingered

In that dark, cool place.  

Shivering, I needed to leave,

Although I was compelled to stay,

Like Ginger.

 

We fled.