Infant

bydemure101©

A rough-cut beam held up a smoking light.
Old, dryish hay might serve them for a bed,
but perched on top of they spent the night
in wordless wonder at the child she’d bred.
They fled a few days later. Parching dust,
a sullen donkey on a speechless road
through hostile country in their foolish trust
they’d chance upon a bountiful abode –
amidst the branches there’s a rosy child
surrounded by glad faces. Through the haze
of wine-diluted vision it appears
a baroque cherub… No one will get riled
at sights too cold to swallow; in these days
of opulence we’ve only painted tears.

Report Story

bydemure101© 3 comments/ 770 views/ 0 favorites

Share the love

Report a Bug

1 Pages:1

Please Rate This Submission:

Please Rate This Submission:

  • 1
  • 2
  • 3
  • 4
  • 5
Please wait
Recent
Comments
by Anonymous

If the above comment contains any ads, links, or breaks Literotica rules, please report it.

There are no recent comments (3 older comments) - Click here to add a comment to this poem or Show more comments or Read All User Comments (3)

Add a
Comment

Post a public comment on this submission (click here to send private anonymous feedback to the author instead).

Post comment as (click to select):

You may also listen to a recording of the characters.

Preview comment

Forgot your password?

Please wait

Change picture

Your current user avatar, all sizes:

Default size User Picture  Medium size User Picture  Small size User Picture  Tiny size User Picture

You have a new user avatar waiting for moderation.

Select new user avatar:

   Cancel