Fleshless Bones By Dennis Moriarty

My mind is a dusty room in an old house

cut off from reality by a storm.

The wind is a wolf taking a trip on magic

mushrooms

howling at a spot in the sky where the 

moon used dwell.

The clock is striking thunder, my darkness

illuminated now and then

by strobes of lightening and the flickering

flame of a candle.

An army of raindrops the size of China

are amassed outside my window.

My thoughts are dyslexic, scrambled

words and distorted meanings

scratched on to a mirror of myriad reflections.

The wolf wind is on the roof,

claws scratching slate as he finds the chimney,

comes down,

damp fur and soot filling the room. He comes

towards me,

I scream in silence as his sharp teeth scrape

the fleshless bones of my sanity.

Dennis Moriarty was born in London, England and now lives in Wales. Married with five grown up offspring Dennis likes walking the dog in the mountains, reading and writing.

In 2017 he won the Blackwater poetry competition and went to county Cork in Ireland to read his work at the international poetry festival. Dennis has had poems featured in many publications including Blue nib, Our poetry archive, Setu bilingual, The passage between and others.