Great Outdoors
it's teeth
some jaw around
my head, biting
baiting an air beast
wintering wind
anaconda squeeze
of miserly monsters
that I'm dragging
as I walk and wings
whose tips stipple
cheeks, reddening
through slow-mo
torture but somehow
that winter stroll
hidden critters galore
is a glorious break
beckoning staleness
from stolid afternoons
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
