It’s On Me

with a thud,
the sun wakes.
flames flash,
yet broca over-powered
by a child’s
interpretation.

flimsy gossamer
shaken loose.
discarded counsel,
bolt on the floor.

Seven Years

the mirror casts a reflection
of a stranger.
the stranger smirks
snidely.

throwing his head back to laugh,
skin marked with faded scars.
faded scars from a previous life,
a life of battle.

the stranger disappears and
panic remains.
this reflection bears no scars,
nor is it bruised or battle-worn.

though worn down, the reflection,
has hardly been challenged.
not for sake of being intimidating,
but for avoiding conflict.

Midnight tolls
steadfast oak

Awakening

flames lick the roof
of the den,
torpor
lingering.

splashing
flashes before the eyes,
hand strikes the
burglar.

thunderous hooves
descend.
battered,
reborn.

Swirling

swirling
gaze transfixed
eyebrow cocked,
ready to fire

sand bottleneck
grinning mackerel
on the tarmac
swirling

Hardy Hibiscus

hardy hibiscus
bounteous vegetation
deter prying eyes