prey

Track my path, unfurling

distance.

Pocket knives with
their sick slick sheen
open
blood-rusty and hot.

Fists clench on cue.

I am the life let loose,

rabbit evading the snare.

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2 Responses

  1. I love most of your work, this one is spot on!
    Thanks for posting.
    larry

    • Glad you like it! And thanks for reading.

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