The Wild West
In the West…
Wild animals show up in daylight.
Color shouldn’t matter,
but it does.
Some teeth I know.
Some pale, still sharp enough to bite.
Shadows slip along the ground,
Blood moves faster than thought.
The sea carries voices
from beyond the waves,
and home murmurs beneath me.
Animals are still animals.
Feed them, help them--
they will still show their teeth
and someone else feels the impact.
They fight for Color,
for Pride,
for what was already someone else’s,
and it hits the wrong person.
Shadows side by side,
Blood moves before thought…
nothing changes.
Their eyes meet mine.
A quick flick - nothing said.
I already know my place.
With the pack, or outside it--
The earth is loose where you stand.
White with brown,
Brown with black,
Black with white.
They move as one, careful.
Most stay in shadow.
The real shapes show in only a few.
The nightmare comes back again:
Faces I used to trust,
Whispers in corners,
They talk.
Nothing straight.
Smiling as if it’s easy.
In that place,
they talk about being good.
They repeat it often.
Still…
I watched
how small they tried to make others
just to stand higher.
I remember the split tongue.
It sounded gentle at first.
Worse than a snake--
at least a snake shows its teeth.
Venom spreads silently.
Not in the flesh.
In your name, in trust…
Mostly at night.
Young or old,
it shows the same way.
The tongue splits.
Once you stop gripping it…
it softens.
They tried to break my name.
They went after the quiet I carry.
My soul stayed where it was.
I walk Alone now.
Wind in my face.
The ground not always steady.
Here.
Mine - even so.
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