Sasquatch
up around here
you'll see them in lots of places
in front of gas stations and country stores
dead statues carved from wood
but there is something very different about this one
just down the road a piece
he is a flat, sharp-faced metal man
a smooth black iron silhouette
heated and forged, beaten thin into the world
with his maker's heavy hammer
a creature with a hole for an eye
and yet, I do not think he is blind
one big foot imprisoned in the ground
the other in midair
one arm forward and the other back
as if frozen in rigid gallop
a rusted, unnatural man, better off hiding in the wild
trying to flee his creator
forever and always
a few steps from the woodland's edge
Author Reading
About the Author
Victoria Twomey has appeared as a featured poet at various venues around New York City, including The Poetry Barn, Barnes & Noble, and Borders Books. Her poems have been published in several anthologies, in newspapers, and on the web, including Red Ogre Review, Sanctuary Magazine, BigCityLit, PoetryBay, The Tipton Poetry Journal, Verse-Virtual, The Agape Review, The Trouvaille Review, and others. Her poem Pieta was nominated for a Pushcart Prize. Visit her online at victoriatwomey.com.