flesh 1

roy herndon smith

silly, the child laughs
begin with gobbledygook
catching in the throat

call it a sandwich
or a bandersnatch, silent
howls in head and house

running for the door
opening to the fireflies
flashing, leaves rustling

night breathing the wild
cacophonies of touches
lost mother hushes

father rolling back
down the bank of flowers
into emptiness

flesh slipping stillness
between terrors, holding pain
in the rest of time