Shepherd’s Crook

The camera doesn’t love me, but you do. I could be

bleary eyed and drooling and you would still lend a steadying hand, like a sheperd’s crook,

to that wobbly and weary me. Humans are such funny little animals, and I am

so many of them rolled into one. One sulky Sloth on Sunday,

one Beastly Badger on Monday, three busy Beavers until… come Friday,

through your lens I shine like a moonstone, a panther black and eager for solitary paths

to take me into our Saturday. I may be black but only you can see my subtle hues-

because you look because you’re close because you want to see. Panthers heed not

a shepherd’s crook, but a panther I am for only one day and even then

my eyes possess only you.

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About theminstrelscitadel

In search of courageous souls who aren't afraid to dig a little deeper and have a conversation about all manner of things. Rant, rave, debate, discuss... let's do it!
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