Seems they just appear nights,
Crawling up from basements, stooping
Into air vents and sneaking
Gently along
Paths of dust, searching
For water, and
Looking for hiding places so
Eggs can hatch.
Their red dot gives them
A presence, a scare in the bright light,
As some human crouches into
The bathroom, turns on the light,
Turns it off quickly,
Frightened by big blackness
With that red spot
Hanging from instant webby-filaments.
Electrifying images
Of death, those stories
Of bites so acrid,
So burning, they take
Human breath and turn
It into an ache, a deadly pain deep
In the lungs, the venom
Speeding along arteries so fast,
Humans faint, holding their breath,
Grasping their chests,
The death grip tightening muscles
Until medics arrive
With the serum.
Early Works is an exhaustive compilation of the first decade of the poems and stories of Z.B.McClure. Included are family photos, rare personal photos, photos of 1st draft manuscripts of many of his early poems. Also some biography and memoir materia
From the author of Jupiter Remembered and Until It’s Time: Embracing Life In Our Later Years comes Petals of Love: Poetry of a Woman’s Soul – a heartfelt collection spanning more than thirty-five years. Through tender reflections, these poems offer g
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(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
What I fear more than Widows are brown recluse: been bitten four times by them. *cringe*