At knife-point we're robbed
While we're soundly asleep
The bounty that's taken
The robber won't keep.

Some are dark
All are light.

Large, unblinking, yellow eyes
Staring up, the fork defies.

I call forth dinner
With my tongue
I do not speak
And yet it comes.

Internal barometer
Coming with age
The more it is damaged
The better the gage.

Animated from within
By flesh and blood
Not part of him.

For your amusement, we provide one week of riddles here in our Archives. In order to see the entire Border Regions Collection, you'll have to wait for the book. Contact Us if you would like to be notified of the publication date.