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#22 - The old she-beast
by Linda FullerThe old she-beast hauls her carcass
out from the pit’s sucking tar.
She’s more than half dead
but the biological imperative
is strong within her. Every joint
aflame, she lumbers forward,
rheumy eyes moving left and right
searching for a safe place
to have her baby. At last,
after the excruciating pain of labor,
in a secluded meadow, redolent
with the scent of fresh grasses,
she gives birth to her cub.
Her job is done, and she leaves it
in the care of others; she hopes
they will treat it kindly.
Though barely able to move,
she drags herself back to her pit
and the warm embrace of the sticky tar.
01/22/2011 Author's Note: Poem-a-Day January 2011 #22
This poem is a hastily crafted metaphor for my daily struggle to pull myself out of lethargy and write a poem of sorts, after which I tend to re-lethargize.
Posted on 01/23/2011
Copyright © 2024 Linda Fuller
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by V. Blake on 01/23/11 at 06:59 AM Strongly admire the poem-a-day thing. I did it last January. It was awful. But then, I'm really bad at the physical act of writing. Anyway, you're still going strong, so keep up the good work, Linda. |
| Posted by Paul Lastovica on 01/23/11 at 05:12 PM if, by tar pit, you mean bed...then i'm right there with you. January is the most languid month of the year. |
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