The Orphan
Entertained by flickers on a screen, cosseted between giants. Suited with slicked-back raven hair, snow-white starched shirt, an innocent tie.
Mother smiles at his sky-blue eyes. Father pats his shoulder, “Good show!”
The nightingale, high in spirits. The tanager beyond the street light.
Chill of the night air, the bravado of a moon flower…
A sudden violent shaking, tremors as he morphs into an orphan, and forever remembers the words shooting at him, whispered in the dark.
borne in shadows
huge fortune, fortuneless child —
criminals will pay
cave of bats sets his destiny
clings to fair tights and blond hair
Like all grown up boys, Bruce Wayne and his secret identity are drawn to the sweetness and tartness of plums. The one meows, enticing him with skin tight glances. But his mother’s eyes are in the courageous and innocent shade of sunshiny hair — he must rescue her; marry her? He has to release her to the day, for he must continually ferret out those who live under the lamplight.
6/22/2019
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