The Three Little Pinkies

I enjoyed making this poem. It means a lot to me personally. I won't say to much else because I want to know what you think!

The babies' skin is fresh and cold.
Their body heat is tiny
and they are pink.

 

They're in a brown bag
and traveling.
Somewhere bumpy bouncy.

 

On a road that curves
and snakes.
They don't know what a road is.

 

Soon a new home with dirt
and grass.
They are looking for the beating heart.

 

They squirm towards a beat
and a heat that they feel.
They nuzzle against a slick body.

 

There is no milk where they
are looking.
Just something long and coiled.

 

And this something is living.
With a heart.
That thumps, now close to their heads.

 

The pink infants,
their insides flutter and
each try to dig underneath.

 

This new body is not awake.
But he stirs with
the movement of the new arrivals.

 

His heat sensing face holes
soon pick up the little scents.
But he isn’t hungry yet.

 

The babies will snuggle with him.
For maybe one more day.
Until they die of hunger.

 

He won't touch them then.
Even when he does grow hungry.
They are too cold.

 

The frozen bodies now below him.
And the smell surrounds him.
The perished are squashed by his weight.

 

He remains coiled and dormant

Author's Note

Just be honest and let me know what you think!

Reviews

[.]

I love how the poem flows. I love it :)

[{A}shley {B}lack @-;-]

I really liked this poem might I be right in guessing that the infants described are of piglets?? even if i'm wrong the structure and the flow of this poem was really well set out and I enjoyed reading it this is the first piece of work of yours that I have read and I look forward to reading and reviewing other pieces well done