Cornered Prey ------------------ When I flicked the lights on Father instinctively grabbed for the khukuri Under his pillow. Dead Mother's photo turned Back at the wall must have smiled. Ghosts of memory Are known to haunt those left behind Who, like Father, try to defend with knives and torches. But not repenting yet and luckless against the spirit-kind, Resot to Liquor to fend off those past scorches. So in the light I saw The stupor on his eye-balls glow Upon dread or deliverance from memory's claw, Just like a rat before a cobra's pouncing blow. mG. (2-26-2005)