PICKINGS
Poetry from NHI publications
OPPRESSION |
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Through a side-wind you shall sense them, through a draught from an open door, in a splash of unguarded moonlight, chance scrape of a chair on the floor; down small, unfrequented alleys where tom cats turn tail, and flee they uncramp the fingers of midnight for their foul advocacy. Shout! Friends will never hear you; you but beat with your stick on air. You may race for home and sanctuary — turn — and they are there; and wipe your hands on the towel, the wounds are but staunched, not cured; there is no more warmth in the ashes and the cold must be endured. |
MABEL FERRETT |
from New Hope International New Series #1 Next poem Previous poem |
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Read another poem by Mabel Ferrett read a review of a book by the author read another poem by the author on the Aabye's Baby Archive Web design by Gerald England This page last updated: 14th November 2006. |