Here is her pride, rain-wet,
standing on unsteady feet,
bowed backbone arched
above bandy baby legs.
–
The child is looking down
at the washed out worm
that is barring her path
like a great orme.
–
She will not step over
nor will she go round
nor can she ignore
this curling creature.
–
Mother comes up to her
watches the wriggling thing
alongside her daughter
and laughs.
–
She moves forwards
and stamps on the worm,
leaves a bacon rind smear
across the pavement.
–
The daughter stamps too,
missing the streak,
but getting the message,
learning, remembering.
–
This is how to treat them,
the creatures of the world,
this is what you do, my pet,
you kill them, little girl.
Leave a comment