By: Henry Hallock
drip drop – drip drop
Mrs. Anderson lay there
drip drop – drip drip
slumped over her chair.
Something like fireworks had rung just moments before
but now leaves the quiet bodies of children,
and Mrs. Anderson,
strewn across the floor.
They lie here,
still and quiet,
year after year.
But from the small figures
Whence laughter has left
Lingers –
one sound hidden in my ears.
The waning drip drop of carmine tears
from those oh-so-tender,
and oh-so-dear.
Henry Hallock is an undergraduate student at Utah State University, where he is pursuing a bachelor of arts in American Studies.