Grandma! Grandma! – a Rondeau Redouble

‘Grandma! Grandma!’ the young girl cried,
clutching her cape, spattered with red;
a hollow shell, empty inside,
but for the waves that crashed in her head.

The rubble-filled streets filled her with dread;
her home was erased, no place to hide;
there beneath bricks her grandma lay dead.
‘Grandma! Grandma!’ the young girl cried.

Raped by soldiers roughly astride,
robbed of her childhood, obscenely spread,
their lust sated, her ropes were untied.
Clutching her cape, spattered with red,

she crept away, footsteps like lead,
filled with shame, with no-one to guide,
staggering south, aimless she fled;
a hollow shell, empty inside

except for accretions of pride
to turn to the world when she bled
from a past she could have denied
but for the waves that crashed in her head,

for flashbacks are easily fed
by chance. Just today she espied
a girl with a seashell, who sped
up the beach, and with laughter cried:
‘Grandma! Grandma!’

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s