As a boy growing up
on a poultry farm, every
Saturday morning would find
me collecting carrion from the roadside:
skunks, oppossums, raccoons,
groundhogs, and an occasional
red fox or two.
Even as a child, I sensed more
than coincidence was at play
behind these legions of animal carcasses,
behing all that protoplasm splattered
across a winding rural road.
Some mornings, I could hear
angels talking to the dead animals.
'Stay still, ' the angels whispered.
I decided to recommend this. Not because I found the writing compelling. But because I found the story meaningful because of the aspect of the angels adding a creative element that added some mystery for those who like such things. GW62
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem
I recommended this precisely because the writing was so compelling.