Fear
doesn’t bother to sneak in.
It lunges, with a screech,
arms spread like wild wings,
fingers grotesque talons
of some long-extinct lizard
fabled to sear the town in flames.
And somehow, you’re not surprised.
And, you ought to know what to do.
You’ve seen the movie –
find the soft underbelly
hidden beneath a missing scale,
and take your best shot.
So what if your hands are shaking.
You’re still holding the bow.
Besides. Your arrow’s on fire.
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