'Infernal' by Lynda M Roberts BA Hons
My father came from a huge family, consisting of 7 brothers and one daughter. The competition and arguements among them was fierce. Through tracing my family tree, I have been able to find all my many cousins – and the stories and memories abound. We have all agreed to forget about what happened in the past generation. Our time is now and we shall not carry on like our father’s did. This poem is about this:-
Bloodrush
Track back starkly
Sarky, in the womb
Like home.
Sticky winged,
The flies have flown
The birds have left their nests
We are confessed
The total of
The left – behinds,
To soar and swoop
The scattered cups of squabbles
Left behind
By blind people
Who, by default
bestowed the gift of light.
And with our might
We shall congress
© 2010 Lynda M Roberts
