Meg Lutz


Big, Bad Wolf - Poem by Meg Lutz

You’re the card
that makes my house of cards
crumble.

A sweatshirt in the middle of summer,
flip flops in the mud,
you are

a cliché Hallmark greeting,
gummy bears I shouldn’t be eating.
A pencil
without lead.

I can’t get you
out of my head.

I’m wandering
out into the snow
without coat, no gloves, following
footsteps size 11,
hypnotized, mesmerized.
Your glistening
perfection lures me in.

Until I realize it’s cold and
damp and disappointing
rolling around on top of you,

making snow angels without halos.

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Poem Submitted: Friday, December 25, 2009



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