I Never Saw An Armadillo

 

I never saw an armadillo in the cold famine
of this mountain,
here, where we are rich with beauty
and tough canned preserves
Unless, of course I reconsider you,
wrapped in a trench coat,
clamped with silver locks and clasps.
Are you an armadillo?
Protecting yourself from the pestilence
of love laboring against your shell,
as the neighborhood dogs snap
against your arrival
cats bristling your approach
into this simple house
where you stomp the corridors turning
hard black eyes to mine
till I stroke your hidden marrow
where vulnerability lies.

Reviews

[Ken Simm.]

People not just armadillo's put up such armour. It would take an awful lot of armour not to appreciate something as fine as this. You make me humble.

[Emily B]

your voice is silken, smooth as honey, you are bound to tame any pestilence with words like these