Tantrum – November 2016

I hoisted my bawling burden on my shoulder
Like a sack of sausages.

His little feet beat in futile frustration against my chest,

Like the hammers on an unstrung piano.

Gradually his sobs subsided

to the occasional snuffle and I could once again allow my ears to open,

as though I were a camel resurfacing after a sandstorm.