A Tiger Named Freedom

“Your words are so hot, bright like the sun.”

He says to me

“When I look at them I have to squint,

If I were to make love to you I’m afraid

I would need dark sunglasses.”

A crooked smile, a crooked path, where ferns brush my bare thighs

I shake my head at such flowery, profuse, perfidious…



In the game of prettily spoken lies, I am no novice

I have been known to drop a cherry bomb

Upon the unexpecting poet

“Come in to the grove, beneath the shadow of my branches

“If my prose are too bright for you, simply close your eyes

“Watch the play of light beneath your eye lids

“Let the wind of words tousle your hair

“Get grass stains on your logic

“Suck the tart wild berries of epiphany…”

There is a pause from the loquacious tiger, no swift retort

Silence is filled with bird song, rustling boughs

The distant whisper of the Skykomish River

“Damn,” He says softly behind me

I smile as my bare foot sinks into the moss

“Come with me city mouse, let me show you how to pick wild mushrooms.”

And there was no more double-speak of two-faced poets

But for all his stripes and majesty, that tiger

Could not walk quietly in a forest


9 thoughts on “A Tiger Named Freedom

    1. Thank you, I was reaching for poetic inspiration and happened upon the memory or this footloose poet I once knew. It is a good memory and I think he would like the poem-although he would acuse me of stealing his lines, and he would be right 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

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