Sunday, April 19, 2015

Poem #9

Write a letter-poem to the self that does not want to be found.


"Dear L"

The tiny leaves of the boxwood
will not protect you
but you can crouch low
hold your breath
and hope he does not find you.

Wait until dark.
Sneak back into the house
after everyone's asleep
through the bathroom window
if your small body can reach.

It is better than going in
and facing the whip
of his belt
for pulling your brother
by the hair
all over the yard.

His anger is like
what yours will grow to be
so you'd better just hide.

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