Night Files Its Teeth
The night files its
teeth.
It feasts on dead
small carcasses.
Its mouth is wide and
each shoulder strong.
It is screaming all
night at the bad news.
Night is not playing.
Last night it howled
like
coyotes and wolves.
There was no light.
The night filed its
teeth.
It looked at me.
I prayed for sunlight.
Luis Cuauhtémoc
Berriozabal
Luis lives in California
and works in Los Angeles. His most recent
book, Make the Water
Laugh, was published by Rogue Wolf Press. His poems
online and in print have
appeared in Ariel Chart, Blue Collar Review, Crossroads
Magazine, Punk Noir Magazine, and Unlikely Stories.
Tags:
Poetry
night gets a bad rap but such is life, really enjoyed this one
ReplyDelete