Bora born
Nightmare on mary street _
He lies on the top bunk, transfixed by the
caress of the curtain across his face.
Puff away night rhythm, pull back the slack.
Sleep retreats, the fevered night comes alive.
His breath contemplates the breezy rhythm
sickness rises deep inside queezy guts.
Breath lengthens, deepens, a focus within mind
to embrace the rising cramp, then subside.
His sickness retreats, the night draws him out
down the road past Roxies where hounds must prowl.
Sleep becons, in waves sanctioned by the breeze
eyelids heavy as, won't stay shut, fear tempts.
Distance comes forward, darkness moves, shapes change
into a rush of blackness, he's been seen.
The prowlers sense their quarie, he thinks he's
safe, the windows too high to reach.
The pack moves past Roxie's place straight on
his presence sensed, they rage past each other
in a mad dash of hideous blackness
through the window, coal red eyes flared.
His mother wrenched from sleep races in, her
son three years old claws the paint from the wall
in an out of breath hollowed wretched wail
his fever gripped by mad dogs, terror born.
- O -
© july 2008 _ Nhawrr yirrpa
Authors notes are found here _
caress of the curtain across his face.
Puff away night rhythm, pull back the slack.
Sleep retreats, the fevered night comes alive.
His breath contemplates the breezy rhythm
sickness rises deep inside queezy guts.
Breath lengthens, deepens, a focus within mind
to embrace the rising cramp, then subside.
His sickness retreats, the night draws him out
down the road past Roxies where hounds must prowl.
Sleep becons, in waves sanctioned by the breeze
eyelids heavy as, won't stay shut, fear tempts.
Distance comes forward, darkness moves, shapes change
into a rush of blackness, he's been seen.
The prowlers sense their quarie, he thinks he's
safe, the windows too high to reach.
The pack moves past Roxie's place straight on
his presence sensed, they rage past each other
in a mad dash of hideous blackness
through the window, coal red eyes flared.
His mother wrenched from sleep races in, her
son three years old claws the paint from the wall
in an out of breath hollowed wretched wail
his fever gripped by mad dogs, terror born.
- O -
© july 2008 _ Nhawrr yirrpa
Authors notes are found here _
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Nightmare on mary street _
Nightmare on mary street _
