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Click hereLast night I fought grizzlies.
Dozens of them-
huge,
Rippling
and ragged
with the wanting
of my flesh
and one standing on hind legs
like a chief,
taller then three of me
But morning slid shyly
between the shutters
and the grizzlies
dropped to their forepaws
grunted,
hunched,
and sauntered away.
"But morning slid shyly
between the shutters
and the grizzlies"
Very nice, Ruby
Again, an original evocation of something real (this one slightly less disturbing). It is refreshing to find such takes on things.
This is the second dream poem that I have had the pleasure of reading in the new poetry section today, enjoyed and 5ed