(no subject)
Another poem. The assignment was to write a ten line, ten syllable poem. I broke the patter at the end. Our teacher was all about that sort of thing.
After the Car Crash
She sat in a rocking chair, my mother
with a bloody face. She rocked. And I hid
behind the skirt of my aunt, just a child,
too small to know that my fear hurt her so.
I whimpered as I first beheld the cast,
those blood red eyes, capillaries busted.
Beside me, my family, putting on
a show of being unaffected by the blood and bandages.
I’d never screamed at the sight of her before.
After the Car Crash
She sat in a rocking chair, my mother
with a bloody face. She rocked. And I hid
behind the skirt of my aunt, just a child,
too small to know that my fear hurt her so.
I whimpered as I first beheld the cast,
those blood red eyes, capillaries busted.
Beside me, my family, putting on
a show of being unaffected by the blood and bandages.
I’d never screamed at the sight of her before.