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Monday, 31 March 1997 00:00
Feeding
Crawling on my hands and knees
Across the pale blue shag
A dingy daylight
Hangs its clown like face outside
Squeezing its fractured smile
Through the motel mini blinds
It seems desperate
And even dark to look back so far
To be so small
Even then I was not aware
Exactly how small
So there I was
A little blood on my lips
And a little flesh stuck in my teeth
A small price to pay
For a full stomach
A happy meal
A happy child
And I’m much bigger now
And of course
Much more happy
© 3/31/1997, William Grant Preston
