A. E. L. POEM THE RED BACK’S SILENT ,PSYCHIC HUNTING CALL

A. E. L. POEM THE RED BACK’S SILENT ,PSYCHIC HUNTING CALL

I squirening images filled my head.

Soon, my body was covered with sweat,
I had worked myself into quite a fret.

Back and forth, I kicked my feet,
Until I was trapped in tangled sheets.

Spiders all over me!
How terrible an imagination can be!

Red stripes blazing on spiders of black,
Please, I thought, cut me some slack.

I could almost feel them bite my toes,
Those red-backs, who marched on in rows.

They crawled on me,
Never let me free.

And as soon as I thought
That I’d surely be caught,

I awoke from my slumber,
And realized my blunder.

It was only a dream after all,
And then I heard the red-back’s silent, psychic, hunting call….

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