The Newbee

Don't worry,

I wasn't born yesterday.

I am handed off to devil's...

and I watch them carefully.

I bait them, and I tease them...

and, they come to me...

as fishes do...

to fishermen...

against their will...

their better judgement...

they...

perambulate...

the only tricks they know...

around, around...

to slowly show...

they bare no interest, in me...

really?

Yet, perhaps...

a little bite,

before we go.

The wolf,

the rider, and the pack...

a deck so stacked,

that even loser's scent...

their odd impossibility.

Their pride against the fool,

to win by slight,

of any means...

to bind, too blind, to be aware...

their arrogance to danger there...

the snag...

of he who has his meat...

and they...

have nothing but the air.


Written By Bruce James Clyde 2016

Art: The Wolf Turned Shepherd, artist unknown