That Alt

Eleanor Casson

It lays there

All alone

Curled in on itself

The little black Alternate.

It waves there,

Striking by itself,

Shunned by its peers

The mighty vine Alternate

It soars there,

Its back to the world

Waiting for something

That smooth black adult Alternate

It plays there,

A stark contrast

To the pinks in the field

That blackened sweetling Alternate

It sits to the side

A single Pink in the sea of Silver

A novelty for the prizes

That crazy Spriter's Alternate.

They come together

All the same, yet different

Wanted so passionately

Those awesome dragon Alternates.