The blank page
smiles, beguiling
crinkling up lines around her 
beseeching eyes, behind the grin
you see her boredom for 
such utter emptiness upon her.
She calls sweet nothings to
the pencil 
as he stands at attention 
waiting for his commands 
before he crosses the field
leaving a trail of bent stalks in his 
wake.
An eraser follows leaving bits 
of its skins as it slithers across the trail 
undoing the marks on the land.

When work is done
soldier, snake, lovely lass lie in 
the grass as the moon rises above them
and the words fly up to the night sky.