Diana/The Wandering Armadillo

The Wandering Armadillo

i am at one with a morose mist

it creeps over, draping

it’s moist tendrils

merge, shaping

shivered fingertips

to settle

on prostrate limbs

so inviting this mellow of

malleable depths


lament not

these quagmired proclivities

i chose this home of drawbridge splinters

of fenland, forest and fortress

to nestle your frigid winters

and linger in murky,

mired martyrdom

a stagnant slimed moat

together beneath ice sheet

our cloistral bodies still float

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