An Ode to Squatch

The curious sun rises in a tepid manner, filling the morning sky. It stretches tired arms and extends a soft embrace over the landscape. Stunning shades of orange, pink, and yellow light up the ever watchful clouds, somewhere deep in the forest an eager Squatch opens his sleepy eyes. His coarse hair is covered with gentle dew drops that the morning hath brought. They glisten, almost as if dancing, in the light of the friendly sun. Squinting he looks out into the unknown as he whispers to himself, will today be the day I am discovered? Still staring into the great beyond he let's out a forlorn sigh, perhaps tomorrow. FIN