Footprint

As I hovered over the footprint which created

A crater on the cracked ground, I began to imagine

How it felt to have the ground shake violently

As the beasts took one loud step creating earthquakes.

And when their raspy breaths give out a stench

From the depths of their lungs enough to feel like

I was engulfed by a rancid cloud.

 

And if I was there, I knew it would huff and puff

And sniff my petite self out of my hiding spot,

Inside the shelter built from old branches and twigs.

And I would dare to peek through the branches,

Simply so I could gasp at its unreal enormity,

And describe to my friends the surreal experience

If I ever survived that monstrosity.

 

I would see the rough leathery skin, tinted in an ugly mixture

Between green and brown as if it couldn’t choose one.

Its fangs and claws would be as sharp as a ravening beast’s,

And its speed would be enough to outrun rockets racing into space.

Its eyes would spy for my presence and seek me out,

With their haunting stare that would stay in memories

And scar me for eternities to come.

 

And when it finally finds me it will come for me. My urge to take flight,

Or to fight will sink to the bottom of the ocean and I can only

Pray to God that I won’t be the monster’s evening snack.

I take an overwhelmed gulp as the shadow consumes me,

And forces me back to reality where my fingers are subconsciously

Tracing over the footprints of the dinosaur, traveling back in time

To when they were more than just stories.