Dog Tired

Standing in Rome’s station

ill with early pregnancy and missed trains

I feel a gypsy girl

carefully placating my arm.

One hand – gentle as a pick pocket

croons and pets the cloth like a pelt

“Nice jacket, nice jacket”.

The other is a supplicating cup.

She is wearing bones

and pleading from the eyes.

My hackles rise.

Nausea clamps my throat

like a spiked collar

and my chain is pulled tight.

I turn on her

snarling and snapping

dog tired of beggary and thieves.


About Mikaela

I am an artist and writer living in the Perth Hills
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