Jogging
along, I saw them in the park,
A
pair of kiddie’s sandals, one atop
The
other, alone in the cold and dark,
Looking
like an abandoned movie prop.
Hula
hoops and frisbees (forgotten lees
Of
August and July’s barefooted fun)
I’d
seen before, without the least unease
But,
suddenly aware of absent sun,
Of
keening wind and unfamiliar flight
Of
black-winged bats, I felt my chest go taut
And
shivered at the stillness of the night,
The
moon’s inhuman eye, and then I thought
Of
Sarah Payne (abducted by a sleaze)
And
wondered, had her sandals looked like these?
[Seven-year-old
Sarah Payne was abducted from
a
cornfield in England, raped and murdered by
a
convicted sex offender.]
Peter
Austin