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The Yawn Snatcher

The Yawn Snatcher is a wily creature.

It has curling horns,

And curving fingers.

Its feet are quiet as a whisper.

You won’t ever hear it coming.

But you might feel it:

That reaching feeling just behind your ears

Like the pull of a magnet

Drawing the yawn away.

The Yawn Snatcher waits

In late nights

Early mornings

Afternoons that drag on.

The Yawn Snatcher loves boring lectures

Fancy dinners

And long waits at the bus stop.

When a yawn begins,

The Yawn Snatcher senses it,

Smells it.

With its spindle-thin legs

It strides across the land,

Fast as a shadow.

It crouches behind you,

Fingers curled

Elbows back

Ears cocked and

Eyes bright.

It reaches round you

— so quickly you can’t see it,

So deftly you tell yourself it was a trick of the light—

And plucks the yawn right out of your chest.

Its fingers curl, cage-like

Around the vaporous, wriggling yawn.

Then it gobbles it down

Or stuffs the yawn into its sack

Or one of its many bulging pockets,

And lopes off

Back to its lair in the misty mountains.

And you will stand and scratch your head:

Where did that yawn go?

Sometimes, the Yawn Snatcher will trip,

Drop its sack with a spill,

Or the yawn will wriggle out through a hole in its sweater

And fly back to the yawner.

Sometimes, if it has flown a long way,

It will be a weak little thing,

Hardly satisfying at all.

But sometimes a quick and clever yawn

Will break free

And gather momentum.

It will hit you square in the back

Sending a shock through your whole body.

And then you will have the most jaw-cracking,

Arm-stretching,

Mumble-moaning yawn in years.

A yawn that makes you blink your eyes and smile.

The Yawn Snatcher will gnash its teeth,

But it can’t do a thing about it.

It will slink back to its cave

With a grumble and a grimace

To sit and stroke its stolen yawns

And swallow them one by one.

 

(Inspired by Ennis taking FOREVER to get that yawn out last night!)

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