The Chain

In the end
I will choke
as the chain pulls tight
around my throat,

me, straining to break free
and run away from under the porch
where I have hidden for so long
from the abuses of my days--
harsh words
and the newspaper
to my nose and haunches.

I dive deep into this vision
of the links I have forged
of my sorrows
and that hold me
inches from everything .

The best I can hope for now
is to hear the metal slip,
groaning under his breath
and prayers slipping
from between my teeth
as I whistle
and call out
to anyone who will listen--

It is time to come home.