A Bloody Poem


Bloodied, she stood at the door-step.

Droplets of nascent red slid down

the pink of her lips –

submerging with the rusty pattern of old blood

– now dried and dusty.

Her eyes spoke of disbelief,

rimmed with steady haze of moist tears.

The twinkle, now replaced with

the dark pall of a bloodied pain.

Her cheeks flushed now and then

– alternating between pain and more pain.

With trembling fingers she held out

– the little memento of lost infancy

– her first milk tooth!