We beasts,
our claws sunk in flesh,
have stared at the night
and found it lacking.
We see in the dark,
creatures outlined in blood,
the heat of a frightened heart
beating in the woods.
Our fangs rip
into the neck of a young deer.
What are the stars to us;
what is the moon?
We know the secrets of the caves,
the trails in the long grass
where our ancestors
bit and fought and died.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment