put a tiger in your tongue
lickety-split,
we have a lot of mouths to feed
and only ferocious words on the hunt
to provide
fierce mothers day and night
with the moon like carrion,
dragging home the light
of a dying country, no game
to nourish our children
so if I call you ungulate – you wild pig you
odd-toed, craft-brewed deer –
will you be ungrateful,
flee that leap in my eye,
my mouthful of wonder?
For The Sunday Muse
qbit 
So many amazing lines packing a punch that hits hard with truths hard to swallow. You had me at lickety-split but that last stanza knocked my socks off! Awesome poetry Qbit!!
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Thank you!
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Scarce food and lots of mouths to feed. Sounds like the news I have been hearing. Try a bailout?
We saw some of the tiniest little cottontails on our walk at dusk. I think they were thirsty, we are terribly dry here.
..
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Poetically powerful stuff.
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For starters, I learned a new word .. ungulate. Continuing on, ‘fierce mothers day and night
dragging home the light of a dying country, no game to nourish our children’ ~~ utterly devastating. Amazing poetry.
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Thank you so much!!!
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Powerful and poetically truth right from your honest heart.
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Wow! A fabulous poem. Powerful.
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Thank you!
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Totally gorgeous! And with that prayer, even I might stop and bend my head to feed the young of the one in search.
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Oh thank you!
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Such powerful poetry!
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Thank you!
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