Mill Old

I’ve been here before,
between fences of wakefulness,
frosting bare-toothed
in stripy drift.

The tattered angle
of my shadow
its ebony gore
still caught
in the bear’s black paw

while I
slipped away,

lost to the drag
and claw of sleep,
grey matter clasping
the grainy snap
of what may
or may not
have been.



Filed under Free Verse, Poetry

2 responses to “Grizzly

  1. It is at the edge most titillating. I go there too, whenever I can.

    Such a nice piece you’ve composed; visual and evocative, eloquent in its simplicity.


  2. themoderndaypoet

    Lovely to read in the early morning – delicate sense of the moments between dreams and wakefulness..

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