THE RICE PLANT
I held him by his slender neck
To pierce him under his chin
And saw white sap trickle forth
Like milk spills from a tin.
I shook him strongly by his thigh
To feel him flail like a fish
And heard his hands’ helpless sigh
Like sand shaken in a dish.
I bravely bent his youthful bone,
Which sprang with a painful cry—
I wondered how one so green and wet
Should so resemble I—
For I am brown and dry.
Originally published in aaduna notes (April 11, 2015)
|I held him by his slender neck...|