Young bodies
on a cotton covered mattress-spring
sleep.
Forgetting/
trying to forget, with eccentric dreams,
the way his hand had moved.

A swift motion that caught her off guard.

While staggering to the door,
a slight limp on her left side,
he grabbed. Pulled. And threw her
battered figure to the floor.

Standing behind the oven
unnoticeable
the two children huddled together.
Watching. Just in time.
To see their father misuse his power
as a husband. As a man.



After the job was done
his strong and bloodied hands
lifted her from the floor…

Searching.
A place to hide her for the moment.
To give him time to think this out.

Back to the yellow room
the small feet shuffled.
Jumping onto, and under
their childhood sanctuary.

An hour.
Two.

Asleep. Finally.
Letting the weight of the day
drip out with their sweat.

The stench of death lingered in the room
but in dreams filled with dragons and ice cream
the adventure of the day: Abandoned.

If you listen, you can still hear the father pray in the hallway…

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