Enid hears
cries in the night:
her mother,
an argument,
Father's voice
bellowing
through the flat.
Enid hides
beneath wool
blanketing
and grey sheets.
Mother screams;
more shouting.
Enid hears
the coal trucks
now being
shunted by
the shunter
on the tracks
in the old
dark coal wharf.
She stares out
in darkness;
just glimmer
of street lamps.
Whimpering,
then silence.
Back to sleep;
soul to keep.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem