Old grizzlies

the door is growing old

creaks loudly and

hinges for support

polished sheesham wood

now salty and ripe

like an orange peel

squeezing it’s nectar

into my eyes

it’s not a sight worth seeing

but it’s the fashion

of old grizzlies

to fold themselves back

into their mothers’ womb

and refuse to lie still

waiting for a 7x2x3

six feet underground.

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