Marilyn L. Taylor
Author's Note: Here's a sonnet that has always been deeply meaningful to me, in a grim sort of way. I have to add that it’s based on an actual event that impacted members of my extended family in 1987.
In Other News
They called the circumstances drug-related
when they found her—face-up, open-eyed,
bloody, but fully clothed. Witnesses said
the murdered girl had not been violated
—and you could call that lucky. Her first stroke
of luck since the convulsive day she fled
from the cold kitchen where her mother spread
her fury every morning, black and thick
for breakfast, making the corrupted air
unfit to breathe. Forcing her out the door.
I’ll kill the little bitch her mother swore
when she comes crawling back from god-knows-where—
a comment the police chose to ignore,
because it hardly mattered anymore.
© 2019 Marilyn L. Taylor
Editor's Note: If this poem(s) moves you please consider writing to the author (email address above) to tell him or her. You might say what it is about the poem that moves you. Writing to the author is the beginning of community at Verse Virtual. It is very important. -FF