I Never Saw An Armadillo

 

I never saw an armadillo in the cold famine
of this mountain,
here, where we are rich with beauty
and tough canned preserves
Unless, of course I reconsider you,
wrapped in a trench coat,
clamped with silver locks and clasps.
Are you an armadillo?
Protecting yourself from the pestilence
of love laboring against your shell,
as the neighborhood dogs snap
against your arrival
cats bristling your approach
into this simple house
where you stomp the corridors turning
hard black eyes to mine
till I stroke your hidden marrow
where vulnerability lies.

Reviews

[Lyn Anderson]

This is a brilliant piece. So cleverly constructed. It was the title that caught my eye, but the flow and imagery that drew me in. Bravo.

[Shimmerbliss/CAF]

Oh, the armadillo prince transformed with a kiss. Your work is amazing.

[icaros13]

"till I stroke your hidden marrow
where vulnerability lies."

Incredible...INCREDIBLE!!

[Samuel Dickens]

You've given this quite an edge--a cutting edge. If I was the one being called an armadillo, I think I'd retreat to my burrow.

[W.k.kortas]

The first four and the final two lines are Venablese at its finest.

[Robin]

love how your poetry leads the eye and stirs the heart

[Ed Hart]

a lot of men are armadillos...those that aren't snails...a few arrive vulnerable, covered with scars...but, as always, the universe will do anything to drag another poem out of you, my dear

[roarke]

"till I stroke your hidden marrow where vulnerability lies."
great ending thought.

This is one of those pieces that resonate from the first word to the last. It has a perspective that locks you in and opens your mind.
In another word, Perfection.

[James Paulin]

A guy wearing his machismo with a chink in his armadillo, brought into his mellow by his mates sweetest hello.

A fine poem indeed.