looking 'attended to' by the moon and stars;
i slip my feet thru the wet, cool grass.

a day to be mine and i got it by the tail.

when the sun comes knocking over the hills of clouds,
i'll be resting in my corner on my stool, soaked.

just 'til the 12th, my trainer says.

but he hadn't been fighting the last 11;
so, a quick sneer at him silences the moment.

then, my engine powers-up with adrenaline,
i muster all my drained saved strength;

a cyclops, towering over all, menaces me
and others; i am the slayer; one slingshot.

first, i gather stones; hurl them madly.
see my first morning star and rest.

all is well, as it should be.

09/10/2010

Posted on 09/10/2010
Copyright © 2026 Charlie Morgan