Tonight's Poet Corner: Sonnet Solstice #62
June Struck Me Like A Drum
by Belinda Roddie
June struck me like a drum, hard, and I bowled
over, feet kicking upward, scrambling to
regain balance. She tried to hit me yet
again, but I moved far too quickly. You
stood by the kitchen, frozen, jaw half-dropped,
as the aggression, warped against her flesh,
propelled June forward in her great assault
against me, for the sake of "recompense."
I didn't want to strike her back. I could
not do it. She was far too gone to see
what violence she was now succumbing to,
how much she was severely hurting me.
I was the percussion until I ran
from her, the pain and time turning to sand.
by Belinda Roddie
June struck me like a drum, hard, and I bowled
over, feet kicking upward, scrambling to
regain balance. She tried to hit me yet
again, but I moved far too quickly. You
stood by the kitchen, frozen, jaw half-dropped,
as the aggression, warped against her flesh,
propelled June forward in her great assault
against me, for the sake of "recompense."
I didn't want to strike her back. I could
not do it. She was far too gone to see
what violence she was now succumbing to,
how much she was severely hurting me.
I was the percussion until I ran
from her, the pain and time turning to sand.
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