by Nick Gisburne
I loved to hear their laughter, but no more
Excited, cheeky children, up at dawn
The weekday mornings, spilling through the door
Their afterschool adventures on the lawn
They ended when that other man arrived
When every playful avalanche of words
Was cancelled, crushed, relentlessly deprived
Of breath, as though a tiger spooked the birds
I never heard their happiness again
And only when they took him from that place
Surrounded by determined, stronger men
Was I allowed to spit upon his face
The house was sold. The mother left, alone
But someone, somewhere, surely, should have known
