What Part of No
by Patricia L. Hamilton



Don’t you understand?
You could be her grandfather.
Falcon stooping prey.

Fresh-picked berry, crushed.
Fragrant blossom cast aside.
Hummingbird wing, cut.

Cloak yourself in shame.
No excuses. Douse the fire,
stir the embers cold.

Lust exposed to light:
your name a scrap of paper,
shredded. Confetti.

Tattered coat, flapping.
Your days of empire over.
Girls are not playthings.






Copyright 2018 by Red River Review. First Rights Reserved. All other rights revert to the authors.
No work may be reproduced or republished without the express written consent of the author.