dirt on the welcome mat

Tag Archives: cave

We love
to be reminded
of the enemies we’ve killed
so walls are filled
with trophies
and crudely scratched out
signatures
that certify each victory,
we frame what we call art.

Fire,
mostly still confined,
is scented, colored,
and circled with glass,
mischievous children
and their parents
snuff out wicks with fingertips
or blow away numbered flames
on birthdays.

Dark
is where
we’re comfortable,
hunched over and grunting,
we make our way
each night
to the same hole
to neither see
nor think.

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The young sleeping monster

Rests his snoring head

On a cave

Nearly empty,

Except for two bloody bits

Of bone.

Nothing dares disturb the

Solitude except one other,

Larger beast.

Reaching into the

Pocket of darkness

With claws outstretched,

She holds her breath,

Snatching and substituting

With invisible instinct.

Then retreating into the night,

She clutches

Her stolen piece

Of childhood fantasy.