Let Us Draw An Angry Bison

Let Us Draw An Angry Bison short poem

Photo by madstreetz

And when we walk into the twilight gold, if we do
I’ll tell you tales of battles lost and won
In hospital corridors.
Of teeth chattering grit
And diligent fear,
That rises like seawater
From toenails.

And when I talk you into kissing me, if I do,
I’ll let you watch a giant wave, crash
Into a rugged shore.
A darkened silent pebbled shore
With pockets full of
Ugly salty debris.

And when you decide to taste the fire, if you do,
I’ll let you count my stubborn scars
Born out of nights and days
Of drudgery, spent in
Office cubicles, restaurants and
Online stores.

And when we etch a bison on the cave wall, if we do
I’ll fetch you the correct colours all
That leave their mark
On walls of stone, and on hardbound
Fairytales, meant for
Those that drop the sails
Near the island of Circe.

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