Friday, July 7, 2017

In Darkness, He (Day 170)


Often, 
in darkness, he 
sends his dogs 
to dig, to jail, 
or to crop, and 
until they return,
muzzles coated 
with mud and worse, 
he threads 
his needle 
with the guts 
of freedom.   
Headed uphill, 
he believes he is
given to empathy. 
He nods to 
the left  
a motion he wants 
to make, but he insists, 
they
may not skip
the vows 
of trust and loyalty.
In darkness, now, he
aims 
his twisted dream 
at certain angels 
of our better nature,
and tightens
his finger.



(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Original Image: Benjamin Applebaum