Little Howls
On a testimony of a life
It was always angry whenever I went past with Kite
Always yelling and protecting that red door
(Which I hardly ever saw anyone set foot on)
After many days we heard him crying:
Little howls day and night.
.
.
Little howls
When I woke up
Little howls
When I had breakfast
Little howls
When I left home
Little howls
When I came back, went to bed, fell asleep…
.
.
For eight, six, nine... Was it a month? No, only weeks.
And then one day, we heard no more.
But there’s a smell...
“Was it of hunger? Or of burning the whole day under the sun?”
Who damn cares?
.
.
From the roof of our house:
“Cover it with sand”, my father said
“Cover it with sand, before it stinks.”
About the Creator
Laura Rodben
Stray globetrotter and words-weaver. I have travelled on a shoestring for many years, stopping every now and then to write down my impressions. Languages have been "doors of perception" that approach the world and dilute/delete borders.
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Comments (2)
Freaky. Great poem!
Wow, dark one