Behind South

Howling in a moonless night, 

Agony shared in radius. 

Bonfire, pipes, the only light

before police invaded us. 

Armed, irate,

the raid was swift, 

All paths blocked, 

rage within a lisp.

Escape o’er descending cliff,

A misguided push, tree root whipped

Our ladder wrenched, 

Left with just a limp.

“Fortunate fall” 

the night sky quipped. 

To think 

an hour ago, 

I clipped my heels 

on moist pine log

Flame burst up

treating smoke as fog

I breathed in deep

coughing bloodless smog. 

Eyes gash-red,

My hate thundering, raw.

Michael Carney