Her voice came up sharp as a dog bite,

Piercing ears and air and quiet of the moment.

The crack of the palm across the little face

Broke silence, hearts and light sprits.

The dragging of tiny feet across the pavement

The wrenching of small, fragile arm

Changed countenances, moods and attitudes.

The exchange of disapproving looks,

The uncomfortable downward glances,

Did nothing to penetrate the anger.

No embarrassment was displayed,

No shame was expressed

To abate the public discomfort.

The slamming of a car door

And the burst of engine drowning out the sobs

Signaled impending relief.

The car pulled away,

The momentary hush was broken

And everyone returned to their burgers and fries.

©1997 Gail Von Schlichting






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