Saturday, June 12, 2010

Big Tent:: Wild Things


Fear follows
me like hungry cats
at my heels

Feed me
their small teeth sharp
I have put out both
meat and milk

peace offerings
but they do not eat
nor drink
they are not pacified

I have nothing left
to share with them
they remain
hissing and wanting



Annie said...

So now you leave them to your own devices. The speaker has done all she can. She makes her way forward, not looking back.

Jo A. T.B. said...

'excellent piece Joyce, I've got the ferals coming to feed from my veggie scrap bin. Those ferals are quite beautiful!!

S.L. Corsua said...

The second stanza sent a shiver down my spine. "Meat and milk" together has, to me, never sounded more sinister as in here. Solid impact.

Dick said...

An excellent characterisation of the persecutory nature of fear. Just right in both theme and tone.

twitches said...

Aahhh I love this! I agree with the above poster that the "meat and milk" phrase, for some reason, is quite strong.

Arti said...

Awesome... I certainly was left wanting for more!!

Tumblewords: said...

Stunning piece. From first to end, it's a stellar poem - the fear is palpable. And I hear the cats cry.

Rethabile said...