In the high street you turn from Ursula,
that small wreaking bear in a fine old coat:
well worn dichlorobenzenated reminder
of an otherwise wasted life.
.
Up and down she pads, from dawn to dark,
claws clicking past embarrassed charity,
rather proffering that magnificent maned neck
to the limp lasso of wet and greedy punters.
.
Her hunted life is heft and loaded into BMWs,
to be stuffed and tipped back later, sore and sober,
that fabulous bear coat torn and taken from her,
the remains of its wilderness scratching at her back.
the last two lines are just powerful, well done on this! 🙂
Thank you Subhan. I like to make the words work hard!
Another gem, Julia
Thank you Dunc. Hey, I sold some more copies of Snailbeach Tails on Amazon. It got a good review in the newspaper. Maybe I should send you a copy to review?
Yeah, you could do that. I’ll willingly do it for you. I’ll email my address OK?
🙂
You have mail!