Ode to Victor Hugo (9)
The Lark
By Freyad Ibrahim
It was heartrending to see her
A little better than the dog
And rather worse than the cat
A child not yet six
Quivering
In scanty tattered garments
Before day break on a winter's morning
Sweeping the pavement outside the house
With a broom
far too big for her small chapped hands
Shivering
The village people called her The Lark
The apprehensive trembling little creature
Scarcely more than a bird
Who was always first up in that house
And out of doors before dawn
But Cossette was a lark
That was Crying
Not twittering
Freyad Hugo
Heerenveen
July,2020
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