by Parrish Lantern
(Canterbury, England)

A young child was my path
through the noise, that
surrounded my days.
a net of distractions
that had me dancing blind
firing shots at my own feet
and not knowing how to stop
and yet a child's cry, that
First test of lungs, cut
through it all, turned,
Spun me round,
hands held out
in supplication

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