Sunday, June 14, 2009

The Weaving of Male Patterns

They come into your world,
shyly... in sly intent.
A wolf in the sheep with sweet talk
and sensitivity...
Gaily you step into the wild
seeking attention and security-
and a best friend who won't stab you in the back.

You do the dance of the feline
to sharp pricked ears and glowing eyes...
and in the womanly wile
and sacred sacrifice,
you tend to the mending of ways,
sowing of pretty little seeds,
dusting of the shadows in corners,
to realize your ill-fated reasoning...

the wolf sits
                       you stand
he waits
                you suppose
he sleeps
                  you dream...

he hunts as you gather.

He will be a friend
who stabs you in the heart.


  1. strong words..but does it always have to be that way?

  2. I have the greatest hope... for a different future in the making.

  3. hold on to that could be a premonition of things to come