Every day I hear you call.
The beast rumbles
and so the hunt begins!
Temptations triggered
by olfactory memories.
Salivating salvations!
Down the aisles
or spread before me.
Swords to the ready!
Sometimes I don’t want
to talk or think about you.
I’ve had enough.
Some days are sharp,
others piquant or honeyed,
but balance is better.
Some kind of love?
Because without you
I would die.
Written for GloPoWriMo 2026 Day 16:
Write a poem in which you describe something that cannot speak, and what it has taught or told you.
Today’s Daily Stoic poem:
1994ever 