Bigfoot

by Gail Cleare

Hollow-eyed chasm,
The icy abyss,
You are at home in this

Famished air prism.
A shuffle of fur,
Shaggy-legged lumber

Strolls you out, yawning,
Into white-faced landscape.
Stone crags gape,

Blinded blue dawning
Between broken-tooth peaks.
The old eagle who keeps

Nightwatch here
Blinks you the password,
Unfolds long veloured

Wings, and disappears.
Only you and Nessie
Survive, lonely sentries

Waiting for orders
From the ancient ones.
I hope your reprieve comes

Soon, gentle monster.
You must envy those men climbing up,
When they go down again.