Today's poem is by John Brehm


My memory is like a steel-toothed trap
and my memories like bewildered animals
lured from the thick of the forest
by strong scents and caught here now
howling and bitten with regret
for all their innocence, their stupidity,
their hunger and their great mistakes.
In the morning I will gather them,
club them if they are not yet dead,
skin them and stitch them into a coat
to keep myself warm and admired and concealed.

Copyright © 2002 John Brehm All rights reserved
from The Way Water Moves
Flume Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

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