coward

I am not a brave one, not a lion nor a lamb;

legs too weak to stand, crawl close.

You are not of man.

Let your mother wean you,

let her lick your forehead clean.

I am a child of the glen,

there is no fear too keen.

Your gentle growl, a humming,

let the throat grow warm and swell;

I will cower sweetly by your side

till all is well.

© 2018 Anna-Christina Betekhtin, All Rights Reserved.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s