My truth
I once had a truth.
It was a glinty-eyed runt
in the litter of my life’s history.
When I gazed at it,
love squeezed my soul:
I fed it the nicest morsels,
held it close in the dark.
And it grew
big and strong.
One day it escaped –
bounding and fanged –
and knocked things off shelves.
I knew it really rather liked the mayhem.
I called and called,
but it wouldn’t come home.
My truth galloped down the
road and into the town
and I could hear the howls as it
left bite marks in other people’s recollections.
Ellen, please publish these in a book. They are awesome!