2011 (short poem)

6 years ago

Towels grown meager

Low-salt canned beans a luxury

The little dog with whiskers

who was better off in someone else's house

Dreams of thick socks

Fear like a crow on one's shoulder

Feet gripping

A beak that can split bone

No pity in those dark eyes

Some hours, days, months, years are best forgotten

Tell me how


Regards,

Katharine

Now blogging at:  I Shall Never Forget the Russian Salad

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