Sergeant (July 2005)

.

.

My eyebrows rose in unison

at the gall of that girl — I daresay a woman —
when the preacher’s words burned
and softened the light of his shocked expression

My heart sank in fear for I did not know

whose influence she was under
or whether it was possible she was alone
and fear that she could become someone’s mother

Her words like a sergeant’s, and just as misled

against all others, trying to convert
you could feel the burn in her eyes
under the guise of joviality and mocking hurt

My rage silenced me — I could not believe —

that the tainted lamb was in my presence
and the taxidermist, ready for a new patient,
sharpened his knife on the back of my hands
.
.
.
.

Copyright L.M. 2005.

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