In the darkness of the city a weapon clatters to the pavement.

Nobody listens.

The traffic clamours.

Always.

She was once moon-eyed and young, trying

Her wings.

Now, in a dark alley, a middle-aged woman lifts up her tear-stained

Face and is dragged behind the rubbish bins,

Into the shadows.

She lies amongst the rotting rubbish, she does not dare to breathe

Or move.

She listens.

The whole world leans back toward its own darkness,

And she leans into hers.

© Kim M. Russell, 2016

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My response to imaginary garden with real toads Play It Again, Toads

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