A Pawn Piece
Today I talked with the cars,
And they told me they’re tired of refilling;
They wished they could stop all their killing
And park in a peaceful garage.
The birds, then, twittered a bit
And spoke of the ‘flu’ they’d caught;
They wished that they could be shot,
To be at peace to rest.
The dogs barked out their grievances
Upon the trees who sighed, ‘How they steal!’
And said that they’d make no appeal
For any piece, big or small.
The trees, then, spoke to me
And told me their tale of woe;
They wished the bulldogs would go
And leave them in peace in the park.
The cat who’d lived in hunger
Said nothing of her stomach’s need,
But talked of love, instead of food to feed,
Though a piece of fish would be nice.
The rock that sat in the pot-hole
Spoke of times when he was the peak;
As a mountain, he’d never felt weak:
Now he’s not even a piece of it.
Not knowing what to do,
I left them in their misery
And wondered if peace was worth the price
That these could say they were willing to pay…
Written for my son, Derek, when he was still ‘knee-high to a grasshopper’.
LikeLike