POETREE

alee_grrl posting on behalf of Ellen Million, ellenmillion

Torn World: A Wild Wind
by Ellen Million

An innocuous breeze,

Just enough to lift lazy snowy tails
And ruffle along their manes.

Clouds along the horizon,
Gray, but not threatening.

Another gust, more persistent.
Rustling at the tentflap, rattling the poles.

Rangers frown at the sky and test the wind.
Darker clouds, and trees to the south sway.

No smell of rain, but the breeze is tugging now,
Less friendly and more persistent.

Little rest between gusts, the field ripples like water,
Brush bends and sheds autumn-ready leaves to spill
Swirling into air that is alive with noise and chill.

The tent strains at its tie-downs and flaps its walls like giant bats.
The unicorns stop eating as their food comes alive in the wind, and huddle together, looking alarmed.
Whistles to reassure them are ripped from ranger lips, unheard over the whistles in the wind.

The youngest ranger goes to comfort them, held back by an older, wiser hand and shaking head.
Nervous snowies are not safe, no matter how tame they may seem.
A mis-placed giant hoof, an unexpected shuffle, and a ranger loses a friend.
Better to let them stampede, if they will, and hope they don't get far!

Wind bites at uncovered faces, pulling hair from braids and yanking at hoods.
A tent stake gives out and the line is alive like the legends of snakes of the Ancients,
Snapping in the air and drumming against the loose wall of the tent.
Rangers jump to hold it down as another threatens to follow, singing like an instrument.

Trees are bending, howling outrage, somewhere rings the crack of a limb giving out.
Leaves and branches and bits of things sting in ranger faces as they struggle with a failing tent,
And listen to the crash of another tree succumbing to the rages of the storm,
No one has breath to speak, or time, but if they did, they wouldn't mention the Upheaval,
Even if everyone is thinking about it as they give up on the thrashing tent;

Better to let the tent collapse and save it from blowing away, so the poles are dropped,
Regardless of the goods inside, and everything that can be is rolled up and tucked under the giant snowy saddles,
And even those are creaking and rocking like boats in the ferocious wind. The snowies snort and mill, coats rippling like the sea.
A ranger chases a lost fur to the edge of the woods, and nearly falls, turning in the wind with her hard-won prize.
Clouds rage above them, streaming fast through the sky; only the high-up Others are serenely untouched by the chaos.

Huddled together against the biting cold of the wild wind, arms wrapped around goods ill-packed and precious,
Rangers grit their teeth and pull their hoods up tight and put their backs to the wind, bowing heads.
A few of the snowies are rearing in place, crying challenges to the sky that can't be heard over the din,
A few have fled to the forest, seeking unlikely shelter there. The rangers can only watch and think about the task of rounding them up again...

Only to notice a pause in the onslaught.

The wind is back at once, reaffirming its anger and dominance with another crack against the trees that sends them bowing,
And there's a crash as another falls, grabbing at its neighbors with whipping branches and tearing limbs from them.
The youngest ranger tries not to think of a tree falling on one of the snowies - but what are the chances of that?
And it's not like she could stop it, anyway.

The howl of the wind is less angry, and is less hard to stand against, when the rangers finally test it.
They stretch muscles cramped from crouching, and release the valued kit they didn't dare let go of,
Frowning over crushed food and a broken tool. There are leaves in everything, and bits of grit.

The tent is dirty, but whole; it will keep them dry if rain follows the windstorm, though none threatens.
The clouds are parting, chased away by the tailend of the wind like a domestic with a broom.
The rangers split up to recover the snow-unicorns; most of them haven't gone far, and look sheepish,

Grazing as if they hadn't noticed anything,
Twitching the debris tangled in their tails.

Scattered leaves and broken branches
Under a clearing blue sky.

A playful breeze is all that's left.

Copyright Ellen Million 2012

aleegrrl

This week we're going to allow our challenge to branch out a little. Rather than having individual hosts this week, we are opening things up to community for a week-long challenge. Normally our challenges go up on a Sunday and community members have two weeks to post a comment containing their challenge response itself or a link to that response. For this challenge we will be posting the challenge on Sunday as normal, however, we ask that responses be posted directly to the poetree journal. You do not have to request a day. If you write your response on Monday and are ready to post it then, you can. If you write it Tuesday and want to post it Friday, you can. The limits are that your post must be an answer to one of the challenges, though poems for the writer's challenge may be posted on separate days, and your post must be up before 11:59 EDT on Saturday, November 10th.

For Writers:
Challenge #27: Write at least two linked poems. You may create your own series, or, if you have the permission of the author, write a poem for an established series. You must have the permission of the author if you are not writing in a series of your own creation. We do encourage people to play, to riff off each others' posts if others are amenable, and to have a good time with this.

Two open worlds to consider participating are ysabetwordsmith's Schrodinger's Heroes, and Ellen Million's Torn World. If you know of other open worlds that people might like to write two poems for, please provide the information in a comment to this post.

For Readers:
Challenge #28: Write a review of one of the poems posted under the serial poetry tag. Entry needs to be between 1 and 3 paragraphs and should reference how that particular poem fits into or informs the broader picture of the overall series.

This week's prizes:
Since the challenge is a little more difficult the prizes are a bit more substantial. Winner of each challenge gets zir choice of 50 dreamwidth points (the equivalent of a bit more than one month of paid time), 3 icons, or 1 15+ line poem continuing zir series. Icons or poem will be created by one of the admins, alee_grrl or jjhunter.

( Details for both challenges )

Note that you do not have to be a member of POETREE, or even Dreamwidth for that matter, to participate. When you complete one of the challenges, please comment at this post with links to your poem or comments; if you complete both, please comment separately for each challenge. Deadline for challenge is Saturday, November 9, 2012 at 11:59 EDT. Winners will be announced on Sunday, November 18, 2012, which would allow our judge a full week to choose a winner.