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


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