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George Lewis Avery

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toothless old dogs
prefer solitude
as do some men
and though they ll bite
if you intrude
they have no teeth
to break the skin

with unblinking eyes
[I sit and ponder]
watching the fires
of others camps
from a frozen dome
where the blizzards
and brutal winds shield
me against the warmth
a warmth i can see
but dare not feel
[nor share] i wonder

i can see them moving about
[these squatters on my quiet mesa]
like shadow puppets
displayed on a wall
[brimming with life]
while behind them
the flames rejoice
in feasting and song
leaping
flickering
dieing
and melting my resolve
[ere long]
this mountain may crumble
and roll down upon them
but will they quit their gaity
and song long enough
to give me a moments peace
i wonder

nearby
[one boot protruding from a snowdrift]
sleeps one of them
a hapless one [though bold]
who left the safety of his fire
to seek out this lonely spot
[and me] but he was
shivering and trembling
so much so that i was compelled
to shake down a small avalanche
from above to insulate him against the cold
it is the same blanket i sleep under
but i have a thicker skin

[its a given] sorta
they have no fear of me
neither have they a cause to fear me
unless i m in need of a cistern
whereby an enlarged cranium
makes for a suitable substitute
and none are more inflated
than a poets brainpan
nor more apt to hold water
and less apt to crack
under the pressure
of my club *whack*

let him seek me out
who would know
where his colleagues have gone
who ve left their sleeping bags lie
and a half eaten can of beans overturned
while their coffee boils away
and the fire dies
on an empty camp

play the samaritan
if you must
build up your fire
face towards the summit
and motion me in

i am TROLL †

.oeg ©