Angelique's Repose
prose poem

Angelique hides quietly in a shrub as bees and birds flit around her. A ladybug climbs up her arm to rest on her shoulder. As she watches clouds, a napping, curled cat floats in the sky, followed by a strand of pearls spreading vertically and horizontally. There are many cloud shapes: eagles, mountains, a sleeping baby, and a canoe drifting along the sky river. Leaves brush against Angelique's immobile and ageless form, a concrete maiden frozen in time.
Squirrel sits nibbling, unconcerned, then climbs to sit on her head, and she giggles softly, shivering as his tiny claws tickle her concrete hull.
As rain soaks her, she yearns to wring out her stone dress.

Winter ice crystals stick to her shapely form, and when spring arrives, she discovers new dimples in her intricate facade. The squirrel returns from hibernation, scratching at newly discovered textures as he scampers across her body. Soon, he brings his mate and their kits, who dig for seeds and play tag in the trees.
Angelique's head leans more, her neck stuck in position, her eyes hazing over. She hears the insects and squirrels around her, but her eyes can no longer follow them. Her breath blends with nature.
The squirrels visit yearly, enjoying the shrub's strong branches, which shade them from the hot sun and shelter them from pelting rain. Grooves from the squirrel's claws run across Angelique's figure, and rain runs down them in tiny rivulets, swirling across her stone.
On a drippy spring day, a raccoon climbed onto Angelique's shoulders and leaped off in fright when her head fell to the ground. A bird found a site to nest under the fallen head's ear, but the squirrels and raccoons stole its eggs. After continuous rain throughout the week, Angelique's figure shattered like a hammer had cracked it, her broken body tumbling to soft dirt. The rain stopped, and the sun shone brightly under a sapphire blue sky, beaming onto her. Steam formed as the sunbeams roasted her damp, creviced body, spiraling upward, and she finally slept.
The squirrel family dug for food around her fragments, unconcerned by her demise, as a gentle breeze drowned out her last sighs.
Copyright © 5/24/2025 by Andrea O. Corwin
I am thrilled you stopped by! 😃 If you like this, consider a free subscription to my stories and poems. (You can also enable notifications.) Click ♡, leave a comment, and share with your friends.
About the Creator
Andrea Corwin
🐘Wildlife 🧘♀️ 🖋️🈷️ 3rd°🥋 See nature through my eyes and photos.
Poetry, haiku, fiction, horror, life experiences. Written without A.I. © Andrea O. Corwin
bigcats4ever.bsky.social
Threads/ Instagram @andicorwin
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also become a paid subscriber, letting them know you appreciate their work.

Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.