Tumble Rolls Home

Twilight. Leaves drift gold. The wall stretches far.

Tumble curls. Tighter.

Cold. Wide. Very, very far.

One inch. Two. Dark beyond the gate.

Hmph. Leaves creak. Still.

PLUNK. Blueberry wobbles on her back. Oh.

Tap-tap-tap. She waddles. Does not stop.

Gate creaks. She breathes. Smudge stays.