Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 18
From the elk beds
to barb wire
the lion runs
chasing the cheap
winter of our hand.
its spilt
this wildness,
oozing under our fences
pooling unto the concrete and asphalt.
we slop thru the puddles
booted in complacency,
shielding our futures.
Would that we bled
with what we’ve cut.
...maybe this edit is better?
Written by
Dan Becker  Colorado
   Em MacKenzie
Please log in to view and add comments on poems