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Predator’s Prey

A young boy is crumbled in a bundle small
Under wooden boards of stairs outdoor
His breath is held as he grips the ground of the floor
In his back an ache, from the angst in his heart a longed-for break

Just a few steps higher hiding in the same place I
His brother older I cringe at the fear my body holds
My muscles trembling and my mouth distastefully dry
I wish to be bolder as the strength I have, it all folds

I taste the dust in my mouth as I press my face to dirt
Afraid to look up I still feel the fright of my brother ‘neath my heels
I long to break out with might,
Protect those I should and fight

In this old park we lie and wait
Two boys young who ran to hide the first place straight
Our parents off far out of sight or shout
The earth still as our hearts pound and grabs our stout

I hear the slow sliding of steps approaching
Grass underfoot shrieks a still and menacing yell
The steps stop hardly two feet above head
And timely steps forward creaking wood an earsplitting bell

Treading down I see the dirt on his sole
He looks around
Seeking a glimpse or a sense of some sound
Of the prey he seeks to please his soul

He walks down further to where my brother lies
With all I have I yearn for him to keep the silence
To protect our sanctuary’s secret from probing eyes
To keep our hearts and lives from this impending violence

He moves down the steps and I take some courage
And see him walking past and ‘round some foliage
I nudge my brother to make an escape
Squeezing out through the gap and scraping my nape

Out free in the sun I sense the need to run
Whispering urgent I beckon my brother along
But down low under the steps he falters and stays
A choice to be made, I choose to run

Across the lawns and the fields I stumble in fear
To the park’s other side where my parents near
Thoughts of my brother haunts me forward
As tears of dread propels me on

Reaching safety I shout the urgent distress
To parents in anguish strained no less
We run back toward the old wooden stairs
Finding empty the place where terror now stays

We search for a cause with hope seeming grim
No trace of a boy whose chance now is slim
Tearing me apart the guilt and the shame
Of leaving him there, will life be the same?

(2008-02-04)

poem by Francois Hoon
Added by Poetry Lover
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