Were pungent under
The cloud of dust
From the pit
Arms beat in the air
Voices raised to cheer
And exhort the handlers
And their champion
The birds rose as one
And descended in a cloud
Of feathers, spikes, and bites
The yellow of the breastplate
Was stained crimson
With the mortal wounds
Of the loser.
Quiet did not come
For the barking the dogs
And their masters.
All
of my poems and photographs are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001,
2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014,
2015. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss (raymondafoss@gmail.com) for
usage. See all 40,650+ of my poems at www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com
Poetry Where You Live.
No comments:
Post a Comment