-Nightmares aren’t at mid-night,
but the two A.M., cold Amencollared by the dankest sweat.
beneath the early crescent,
razor-edged, faceless
discus moon,
discus moon,
in the Chihuahua’s darting eyes
seen in a dream, leashed to a teen
running behind, silent cries,
running behind, silent cries,
not the beating rumbling waterfall
but a mid-night crushing crack
from a summer thunder roll
Ooohh, very nice scary 55! Glad I read it in the sunshine of the day.
ReplyDeleteooo...you give me shivers today...been a while since a dream has woken me up shaking...a couple months, lets keep it that way...smiles. nice 55!
ReplyDeleteSuperb. The first stanza gets it off to a cracking start. Goose-pimples already. The rest builds on it beautifully.
ReplyDeletePretty intense 55. I am liking this. My 55 is HERE .
ReplyDeletegosh you had me scared just reading this .Nice I like it quite a bit. Nicely done.
ReplyDeleteOld Man George
Thanks For TheComments.
Thanks For Reading.
Dianne...
ReplyDeleteDon't you EVER say ever again that you are not noticed or missed.
This was fricken Genius!
I absolutely Loved this Masterpiece of a 55.
Thanks....I bow to your Talent Fab Di.
Have a Kick Ass Week-End...G-Daddy
shivering - glad I don't have nightmares very often...
ReplyDeleteLovely spooky poem!
ReplyDeleteThe mid-night crushing crack and summer rumble is actually at this very moment on it's way to me. Last one smashed 5 window panes. Hailstones July. Innsbruck already flooded. Aaaaarh.
ps- Have replied to your Poetry Bus query on the PiR blog.