All Comments on 'My Muse the Monster'

have a frickin monster embodied sister? Cuz I know her well! Mine is all green and scaly, raring her fanged head in the middle of the night in a stormy dream. Then my fingers must find a quill and pen, scribbling my answer to her battle cry. You captured what I feel, and to me, this is what poetry is all about, creating an image in another, drawing that memory to the forefront. I like this one.