Grendel

The structured argument
struck the frame.
Blame rested squarely
on his shoulders.

The older he got,
the colder each day became,
and when he came,
the same was said.

By then, the minutes
poised in the pendulum
had the look of a winter storm.
Warmth had failed him,

and he breathed.
It was all he could do
to silence the frigid mounds
of protest. We all benefited

from his protection,
yet our temperament
made us distrustful.
Distrustful was the worm

of the day. Some say
he never really was.

-r. miller

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s