I can’t see the scene since the light from the almighty sun is blinding me.
Ah, clouds can be so helpful sometimes.
I see it now – a pretty scene in a field from my family farm –
a wooden fence by a dirt road.
There she sits wearing a white frilly dress.
Be careful as you approach, that one bites.
She is not what she appears.
Her outside only reflects one facet of her personality.
Don’t bother her with the trifle, it does not amuse.
Don’t anger her with insincerity, you’ll get bloodied and bruised.
It’s truth she requires as she licks the wounds from denial.
I’ve heard she can be quite docile.
If you can resist feigning interest, you may stroke her mane.
But know this going in, her ferocity will never be tamed.