A Summer

by Jan Oscar Hansen

In the backyard of the house that had never

been painted and had so many people living

inside that it looked like it was ready to burst,

the sun flooded - high summer - as bluebottles

circled the rubbish bin where a big rat sat and

catlike cleaned its face using a piece of broken

glass as a mirror.

I patted the rodent on its head.

It smiled showing healthy teeth and sank them

into my hand before running down a hole.

My dad used the last of his whisky to clean

The wound, mother was glad for that.

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