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The Playwrights Forum > The Art & Craft of Writing > Poet's Corner : Critique my Poem > The pearls

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 Posted: Wed May 13th, 2009 02:37 pm
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blackjohnnie
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before the swine
wake
Gergis Feris bends his neck,
scratches the nape,
thinks on the quiet outside.
 
He brings himself to the water pump,
a basin,
a torn piece from an old caftan
washes himself
in the last of the
morning chill.
 
He thinks
of the walk into town,
 the wheelbarrel’s flat,
how lucky he is to possess enough
for only one bag of corn.
 
He finds them dead.
They tried to run.
Some stuck between molded planks
in the fence,
the sow
abandoned her pigs.
 
A truck
of men with guns
lifts clouds
of earth
in the distance.
 
Still in the shed
Gergis Feris
opens his fist,
plunges his hand,
feeding the mud
and thinks on the quiet
around him.

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