Writing Cold

this rhyme is held in permafrost
so I can write no more
before the warmer kiss of spring
wakes it to its thaw
until then it sleeps suspended
and dreams of April’s days
to bring life to its destiny
and breath to its final phrase


the dreaded moggysaurus

supposedly a meteor
killed them off it’s said
but I’m sure I have
a dinosaur
underneath my bed
I doubt he is a big one
with sharp and pointy teeth
but still… it is
a dinosaur
beneath me when I sleep
he may not be green and scaly
with horns and claws and that
and maybe when
the light goes on
he looks just like a cat
but when the night surrounds me
and fills my mind with dread
I’m certain
there’s a dinosaur
asleep beneath my bed