Morning came
she woke up
in her room
she listened
the old brown
Bakelite
radio
was churning
out music
she got up
remembered
her father
had hit her
before bed
she opened up
the green door
and went through
the bright lit
sitting room
her father
sitting there
eating up
his breakfast
she passed through
he watched her
said nothing
she went past
the kitchen
and bathroom
her mother
was coming
out the bog
how are you
young Ingrid?
Mother said
Dad hit me
before bed
Ingrid said
why was that?
Mother said
I went out
with Benny
we played games
cut my thumb
Ingrid showed
her mother
the bandaged thumb
let me see
how it is
Mother said
she unwrapped
the cut thumb
how did you
cut the thumb?
Ritual
Benny said
what Injuns
used to do
joining thumbs
that are cut
blood brother
and sister
Ingrid said
is that why
your father
hit you one?
Mother asked
I don't know
Ingrid said
Mother washed
the cut thumb
and put on
a plaster
off you go
to get washed
then get dressed
Ingrid went
to the bog
and sat down
she could hear
raised voices
Father's roar
Mother's shout
exchange
of insults
a duet
of anger
words flying
like dark birds
Ingrid thought
where's Benny
wish he was
here with me
my brave knight
with his quiff
of brown hair
hazel eyes
and that sword
his old man
made for him
he like me
10 years old
the voices
had silenced
an eerie
cold silence
was out there
Ingrid sat
stiff as death
listening
with held breath.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem