by Mae Newman
SILENT CRY
Slap bang in the middle of the road he stood,
stretched to his full height, in a stately pose,
his dead lover at his feet.
Heartbroken, demented, not knowing which way to turn,
you could sense the anger, despair, heartache.
Looking at each car, pleading, help me
bring her back to life.
And the next thought, if this is human I don't want to know.
You could taste the venom he was spitting
the grief he was feeling.
Not knowing what to do,
I thought of stopping, maybe help.
Then I was too far gone to go back.
How could I have known a bird, a pheasant,
could love and suffer like a man.
.................
Mae read out this poem during the show on May 9th and gave WILDTIME permission to (re)publish the poem here. Thanks to Mae for this wonderful poem.
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