midnight hunger pangs
by anne cunningham
Friday, March 28, 2003
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the raven swoops
rustling, settling to nest,
encountering his lover,
wild woman gone child,
resting there, hair tossed,
eyelids, sidelying half moons,
added smiles on a face so near sleep,
mind steadied toward dreams.
cooing replacing his wicked woo,
his puffed chest relaxes in time,
to sinew and bone stretching long,
then curling to meet his aching belly;
intoxicated by her warm milky breath,
he imagines a feast of sweet meats,
laced in blood, but does not eat.
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|Reviewed by Nicholas Tillemans
|A pleasing balance of imagery here...and a fine riddle. Nice write.|
|Reviewed by Sara Russell
|A well-written, vivid glimpse into the bird's life.... Sara|
|Reviewed by Erin Kelly-Moen
|Wow! Exquisite, Anne!!! :)|
|Reviewed by Oisín Breen
|Reviewed by Elizabeth Taylor (Reader)
|Ditto, ditto. Agree with everyone.
|Reviewed by john zimmerman
|Reviewed by Retta (Reindeer) Mckenzie
|Wow...so vivid! Excellent! Love that last line,
|Reviewed by Paul Berube
|Anne, excellent. You made me hungry. lol|
|Reviewed by ya mama (Reader)