Grip

Cats in and out each with their individual meow

grow tiresome running under the groan of the garage door.

something inside them is frantic like me-

a stuck emotion or unexpressed desire

to be out in the cold rain pellets

asleep and unconscious

 

Their cool damp fur stuck with thistles

eyes-insatiable

the horses  beg for thirds and look wildly into the wet woods.

I am not so different

One thought on “Grip

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