- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Bricks
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The red clay
Dusty in my hands
I set the first row
Stub my toes
On their rough edges.
Keeping out the
Wolf in my heart,
I set the mortar,
Place a brick
Tamp it down,
Like a little pig
Learning from past mistakes.
I peer over the wall
Now chest high
Wonder if you will notice
The hard shapes
The stone walls
The coldness
Rebuffing intruders.
I must reach above
Finishing the fortress
Containment of myself
I left a watch hole
Straight and narrow
An arrow slit
To watch and wait
And defend myself from harm.
