Down the long dirt track,
cold metal barrel pressed against back.
The sound of shovel dragging,
snagging against roots
every few feet.
Could he escape
beat a retreat?
Down the long dirt track,
stretching limbs of rustling trees.
Grabbing him in the breeze.
He is pushed to his knees.
The shovel thrown in front.
Dig. The woman taunts.
Sweat cascades from his forehead
like waves down a cliffside.
Nowhere to run.
Nowhere to hide.
Metal against dirt,
hands blistered and hurt.
3 foot deep now
and the moon sits behind a cloud.
Knowing what comes next
If she had hands
she would cover her ears
from the fear, the screams.
The bang splits the night in two.
silence seeps out, red in hue.
The woman fills the pit.
Dirt and grit
beneath fingernails.
She sits.
Smokes a cigarette and smiles.
walks away,the way she came.
a flourish in her step.
Hope was her name.
Thanks for reading
please check out my new book "In Shadows"
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