I wake surrounded
by barking, drooling beasts.
Much like me, but not me.
I’ve been trying to make sense
of the disrupted dream I call my life.
I wonder where my soul has gone.
Has my resolve taken flight?
How do I keep the wolves of madness away?
I try to engage with them.
Snarling, they display yellowed fangs.
Run, and you die.
Placing palms on thighs,
I inhale slowly, gathering strength,
exhaling past and future.
Circling and howling,
they try to distract with fear.
I focus on simpler times,
dreams of sun-warmed days.
I am centered.
Joy radiates from within
illuminating the beasts.
Bored with the stillness,
they slink off into their darkness.
© 2025 Bruno Talerico
Stafford challenge 312/365.
Desert Dweller 