Ballot Death Poem by Francie Lynch
Ballot Death
In the pitch of sleep
On a hot, humid night,
From a depth so deep
I woke in fright.
The overhead fan
Swirled the air,
The bedroom window
Was drawn and bare.
Out from the dark
I heard the scream
Penetrate and join my dream.
It slammed and splattered
On my screen,
An anguished cry,
An animal dies
Caught by a red-eyed predator.
I couldn't help but think
Of death,
Coming this November.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/17/2024 3:28:29 AM # 1.0.0.1119
