Listen to poem:
Telltale Tattle
Scats scattered in field
tell who or what's been there.
Footprints lined up
like string of daisy chain
stick figures in rogues gallery
outside the window,
tell who's been where, and when.
Outside the grass is indented, sticks snapped
leaves out of place, leaf litter rustled,
Inside the room wreaks of disturbance
tells me someone has entered,
someone has been in there.
Odours lingering and lolling a
bout in still dank room air
tell whose been doing what, in there.
There are no secrets
hidden from telltale tattles,
forensic.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
