Camping poem
Griz breath
on my neck
in the middle of the night
in the middle of the night
Griz claws—
just a canvas-hair’s breath
above my face.
Teeth chattering
wild girl
turned noodle
in the middle of the night.
Written for Poetic Asides Wednesday prompt
Writing On The Sun 
Whimsical and fun! I love “griz” and “wild girl turned noodle” 🙂
I love ‘wild girl turned noodle’. Great turn of phrase!