The Night Puppet Poem by Jonathan Ballam
The Night Puppet
he frowns
drowns in sleep
his head fed by a string
it drapes the weather over him
he lies and watches
the moon
a confident polished shoe,
stares up
watches only what he can hold
the stage flames lick up like a carpet
(enough said)
the world begins
and under it the music
his thin arms and boy head
the first shuffle
then a clear thimble silence
echoes
touches
him
tells him
to come back to bed
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/3/2024 4:08:42 PM # 1.0.0.1119
