Ghost in Raval

It was scabby
Ugly and terrified
With skin like red velvet.
It crawled, hung, stuck to the floor
the paws red and abused.

The phantom walked past quietly
calm, distant, confused…
It was too heavy
And he held it
He grabbed it

By the paws, the scabby paws
By its weakness.
Not a sound did it utter,
Not a whimper:
A silent submission.

And I don’t know what won,
What remote song of humanity sung
Of loneliness ghastlier than fear,
Hanging limply and calmly,
Like a shriveled Christmas turkey.

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