Gnome in the Garden
Mindless hump, down in the dumps
The dragon throwing daggers from all sides.
A pagans dance, the rulers stance
The sky begets their cryptic chants.
It rains again, these blistering winds
The wolves howl beyond the tree line.
Hunger first, then eat the curse
Cut through these darkened days.
Where is he? How ’bout she?
And what of the gnome in the garden.
His unkempt face, his snail like pace
Mother curses him from the foyer.
She knows the game, she’s cut the same
Her son sold into silence.
He can’t get out, he begs for stout
A drink to say goodbye too.
Mother, mother, the dead eyed gnome
And hopes dashed with rich forgiveness.
I beg for less, my past a mess
So far to runaway too.
Stare on, stare on you mindless gnome
Your fate will outlast you.
I say so long, it won’t be long
Till mother joins you in the garden.
©2020 Rob Azevedo All rights reserved.
Rob Azevedo, from Manchester, NH, is a writer and radio host with a new book out called “Notes From The Last Breath Farm: A Music Junkie Quest To Be Heard.“