Look at what you’ve done:
Sent me to my den again.
From your swift sword-piercing,
to the raging point again.
Stuck with your misery,
subject to trudgery.
Fall on slippery ice.
Nordic-numb and rabbit-frightened,
doe is dropping from the blight.
People parallell debris;
my helper? Executioner..
Pain, my morbid friend.
Drained and beaten; begging.
Hand’s skin splitting, mangled eyes;
bowels stirred from the strain.
Twin worlds bleeding,
compelled to hold the dam-----
sandbag, instead, the muddled run.
Fran Hinkle
12/02