The Hurt

The Hurt

I know in the dark corner
stuck there with your pudding
on your nose now and sugar powder on your royal-purple button-up
I see in the cool hollow
wedged there as a matted squirrel
with your bushy tail tucked deftly back but your poor little leg crushed beneath a sharp fallen stone
I miss me in the cold water
with my fingers numb and blue
while the ancient decree spreads

Comments are closed.