Poem: Red Hiding Hood

Hidden in the small flame
I will remember

My father is looking for your father
They know they drove nails through everyone’s

Hands
Words, not my own

Hidden in the small flame
I called

Whore mark
Hair Fragrance
Dry feet
If you remember

I admire you
I was very small

When it comes to me
Press your hands on the ground

I accept night
You must remember

These low, these tears are for you
Hidden in the small flame

---

Written in response to Big Tent Poetry’s Monday Prompt for 21 March 2011, though I used Google Translate.

Related articles

• 4 Fun Things to Do with Google Translate (makeuseof.com)
• Poetry Prompts and Exercises from Around the Blogosphere (margoroby.wordpress.com)
• Poetry Project 2011 (damianinreallife.wordpress.com)
• Poetry Potluck – Week 27 (intostillness.wordpress.com)
• The Great Poetry Giveaway (margoroby.wordpress.com)
• About the Dead Man and His Funeral – Big Tent Poetry (liv2write2day.wordpress.com)
• On Twitter’s “Birthday,” World Poetry Day & #poetweet (seapoetry.wordpress.com)
• My tentative venture into poetry (messydesklife.wordpress.com)
• Friday Freeforall: Come on in and Write (margoroby.wordpress.com)
• National Poetry Month is just around the bend (witsblog.org)
• Friday Freeforall: Roundup (margoroby.wordpress.com)