Ioana Geier

The axe

it smelled like hemlock, like steamy vinegar
the broken rabbit
on the apple trunk

the tomcat was rolling in the grass red, juicy eyes

I was a child watching the axe, crippled neck,
through the fence

my hunger needed to be hidden
back home I was to strain and stretch
a very tall, green skilly


 

 

All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Ioana Geier.
Published on e-Stories.org on 02/26/2010.

 

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