Monday, June 6, 2016

A Poem by Ryan Stone


A shrill yap, cut short; a thud
reverberates from car wheel
to the padlocked room at his core
where once he cowered from the beating
of his childhood heart, as shadows raged outside.

Now a father's blows are replaced by blood,
pounding a drum in his ears; a mother's wails
replaced by a dog's dying yowls.

Howls turn to pants,
turn to silence
and he finds himself driving--
one more mangled wreck
fading behind.

Ryan Stone is a freelance writer from Melbourne, Australia.  He shares his home in the blue Dandenongs with his wife, two young sons and a German Shepherd.  On daily walks through his forest surrounds, he often peers down rabbit holes.  His poetry has recently appeared in Writers' Forum Magazine, Black Poppy Review, Napalm and Novocain and Poppy Road Review.  A selection of Ryan's writing and art can be found on his blog

1 comment:

  1. A tough poem, Ryan. Spare and gut-wrenching. Going to your site to read more.