Tuesday, June 19, 2018

Quieten (Day 517)

When she turned it was green 
or was it violet   the light 
in his eyes sharp as the pinprick 
scratch of dried grass beneath 
his shoulders   his mother used 
to favor an odd word: quieten   
quieten yourself now   she would say 
when he or one of his sisters 
cried or got out of hand   but peace 
is absent here   where someone 
has been painting the land around 
him all the shades of autumn



(c) 2018, by Hannah Six

Image: Lillaby/Pixabay