Part XIII and Guest Poet 8 - Natfastic Submarine Dream

(Speeding towards the halfway point, here is Part 13 telling the story from a none human pair of eyes - a little dog.

Guest Poet 8 is my friend Natfastic again who offers a second poem called Submarine. Natalie's link again to read more is http://writeoutloud.net/profiles/natfastic)

XIII

Gleaming like flowstone

Stumped almost ankle height

He was the only one

Who saw the final confrontation,

Turning leaves like footsteps

Pinned to each punch

Glinting with violence

Increasingly linked together

Twisting each movement

In an isolated dance

With a salt rain

Blistering his ears

Crocheted with heavy sleet

Decorated over his paws

And soaked tail

Translating the madness

Into flowering corpses

Flickering off empty shells

Gouging in the moonlight. 

Submarine Dream

In the deep

blue-black

of a submarine

I made my bed the floor;

spread rough blankets

whilst shoals of fish

flashed past portals

in tinsel flickers

of inky light and

nightmares haunted

dreams of intangible reefs

I couldn’t reach.

I lay down hardened

grappling blankets;

caressing roughness

until the fleeting broke

and opaque waves

of galaxies gazed

and hinted freedom.