Lament for the Littlest Fellow By Edith I. Tiempo The little fellow was a marmoset. He held the bars and blinked his old man`s eyes. You said he knew us and took my arm and set My fingers around the bars with coaxing mimicries Of squeak and twitter." Now he thinks you are Another marmoset in a cage."A proud denial Set you to laughing,shutting back a question far Into my mind,something enormous and final. The question was unasked but there is an answer. Sometimes in your sleeping face upon the pillow, I would catch our own little truant unaware; He had field from our pain and the dark room of our rage, But I would snatch him back from yesterday and tomorrow. You wake, and I bruise my hands on the living cage.
Posted on: Tue, 30 Jul 2013 10:37:24 +0000
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