Daily Archives: April 23, 2019

Trauma, he said, Pausing…

His hand extended

Fingers trembling slightly

A small tree indicated

Or was it the house?

Yellow on a hill

Where a picket fence

Lay distorted on grass

Brown fried by sun

And lack of rain.

The windows bare

No hint of furniture

Empty as a shell

Upon a beach

Consumed by crabs

Whose claws clacked

Like razors slicing dried sticks

Into powdered emptiness.

Lowering The Hammer On Dinner.

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