
Fists
Follow
Guest
Hire
Older
Man
Mittens
Smoke
Snowman
Crunch
Harden
Jump
Lift
Coals
Impediment
Drench
Coffee
Sit
Place
Wool
Today we have a double Wordle. Check this out at Mindlovemiserysmenagerie
The Fight
I balled up my fists, I was ready to fight
following him there through the dead of the night
I felt like a guest in a house made of cards
a man out for hire with my own body guard
He was older than me ’bout least year or two
he wore these old mittens that hid a tattoo
He smoked unfiltered camels lit with a match
a snowman would melt if the wind were to snatch
the match as it blew aglow burned with the fire
the glow in the air was something I’d admire
now crunching along on this harden black dirt
I jumped at a new sound as if I’d been hurt
I lifted my head, watched the man in my path
black coal colored eyes showing deep-seeded wrath
boots I was wearing an impediment now
I was drenched in sweat, from my feet to my brow
I could smell the coffee escape from my pours
if you’d been there as well it could’ve been yours
instead of running I decided to sit
on a place that seemed dry, my senses a-lit
He had pulled on a cap, twas handmade of wool
like a matador wears a cape for a bull
He suddenly smiled as he held out his hand
he helped me adjust and move up to a stand
We shook each hand as if we’d known we’d were friends
and that is how this little story now ends.
©2022 CBialczak Poetry
love this Christine!
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pleasure!
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Very nice! Thanks for sharing.
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Terrific!
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Great job!
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