One Poem by GJ Hart

 

Lamb Saving

 

Lane silent and sunny 

and me still

ringing from the hospital

where my father lay 

dying - back to that house

I hated in those low, soft fields. 

 

And passing a celebration's

flattened sign, i heard 

sounds and through livid, 

contrary cables 

found half its life 

flung wide, 

 

the rest through wire -  

Its body flying white - 

the more it fought 

the more it bled 

and terrible to watch 

death relax like that.

 

A simple thing - its heart

against mine as I worked 

fingers into the steel

noose and strained

until we tensed together

and both sprung loose.

 

Heavy down, I watched

it over the distant hill 

and my hands barely 

healed when they began 

to gather at that house 

I hated in those low, soft fields.

GJ Hart currently lives and works in London and has had work published in Isacoustic, Nine Muses Poetry, The Molotov Cocktail, The Jersey Devil Press, The Harpoon Review and others. He can be found arguing with himself over @gj_hart.