Robert Horton Poet Rhyme

Hollow Tin

Hollow Tin 

Tap tap! 
Like calloused fingers 
On a hollow tin, 
Like a snare drum
Muffled, as if bodies 
Were stuffed within.

Tap tap! 
On riddled wood 
And gloopy mud, 
A spit, a splat, 
A rat-a-tat-tat
A gasp, a cringing thud. 

Tap tap! 
Slow yet rhythmic 
Like warm autumn rain, 
Hauntingly beautiful, 
Echoing like the silence 
Of comforting pain. 

Tap tap! 
The constant dripping 
Of crimson friends, 
"Over here, over here!"
As one voice calls out 
Another one ends. 

Tap tap! 
On crispy khaki 
And hollow tin, 
Sculpting Tommy's face 
Into a grimace
And a wry grin. 

Tap tap! 
Louder, a whistle, 
"Oh my god!.....this is it!"
Tap tap!
Another two bullets 
Hit.

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