Saturday, April 22, 2017

Mute # 97 Claine Keily

Mute she watches the white cats play
too tired now for music even
each day at the school
children drink her blood
then she brings home the money
and picks flowers
barefoot in the dark

3 comments:

  1. Fabulous poem Claine - really poignant :)

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  2. I come home at night
    too tired to think
    my white cat
    comes out from
    underneath the car
    to say hello

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  3. 'too tired now for music even' - I know the feeling! Great poem - thank you for sharing

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