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Posted by on Mar 25, 2020 in Poetry | 0 comments

Cold Blood

Cold Blood


The stranger came swinging his vacant lantern
Yellow globe in the night
The dogs barked but the lock didn’t rattle
The family slept and dreamt of slides and see saws
They chanted Little Miss Dailey and the diesel lullaby
They had a picnic and a bbq and caught butterflies in nets
The locks on the doors opened by themselves
And in the morning when the teapot whistled
They thought it was a man
Thought it was a man but it was the strangers knife
Sliding on their throats
And the dreams of benches by the willows
Sun lit ice stars on the windows never were more beautiful
Diamond lattices lacing the lawn
Bacon and eggs bled on the floor
The stranger’s footprints to the door

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