Heavy Boots
Heavy boots
echo
on slabs
of Suburbian containment.
Echo through
the tire worn car space,
empty,
under the willow.
Echo past
Open windows,
Spidery lace,
A smiling buddha.
Echo beyond
pristine garden beds
brimming with cheer;
hidden by midnight.
Echo.
And snuffed,
by the welcome mat...
Three knocks
New light floods.
Eyes glaze
to repel fear
in other eyes that pray
through the door crack.
Glazed eyes speak,
“Does Dianne White live here”
Then mouthing silence,
not heard
above the screamers
who see
their child’s tire worn space
below the willow
and know - not him
but a phonecall
would mean she lived.
echo
on slabs
of Suburbian containment.
Echo through
the tire worn car space,
empty,
under the willow.
Echo past
Open windows,
Spidery lace,
A smiling buddha.
Echo beyond
pristine garden beds
brimming with cheer;
hidden by midnight.
Echo.
And snuffed,
by the welcome mat...
Three knocks
New light floods.
Eyes glaze
to repel fear
in other eyes that pray
through the door crack.
Glazed eyes speak,
“Does Dianne White live here”
Then mouthing silence,
not heard
above the screamers
who see
their child’s tire worn space
below the willow
and know - not him
but a phonecall
would mean she lived.