CONFLICT

What is it? Mother and father? Lovers?

With the wind in her hair

The cherry-faced girl, long tresses

Like a wild mane behind her,

Ran for her life;

The man,

Surly, scarred, serious,

Ran after her

Gasping her to stop,

Angry in his breathlessness;

The woman,

Petticoated, pretty, pert,

Called her,

Sweet as a siren

And the girl ran to her.

The night winked

From beyond the Eastern skies,

Shadows grew like blankets

Swooping to earth on an old shadow;

The girl,

Hair tangled with the wind’s mischief,

Face ripe to burst,

Paused in her flight

And the woman screamed;

She screamed like a wild bird,

All talons and claws -

And night fell.

The man watched

And the girl fell

Like a pretty rag doll

Into the woman’s arms,

The one who crooned and simpered

And called her darling,

And wrapped a silver chain

Around her precious neck,

Pulling tight

And calling on the wild night spirits

To take her.

And the man turned,

Wandered off,

Nonchalant,

Leaving his prize

Until tomorrow when the sun rose.

Reviews

[Lousje's Lines]

The descriptions of the characters in this poem are beautifully written. Well done.

[Peter Rogerson]

I very much appreciate your comment/review.