The Boy Nikolai

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The Boy Nikolai

–

Wolves live in our cistern.

They moved in the day Mr Adams

told us a story in assembly about that Russian boy.

–

Their disguise is a cascade

of blued water, like Siberian blizzards.

Their appetite as deep and impossible

as the River Volga;

–

Nikolai was only the start.

–

I know it’s true:

Mum stops tutting

when I ask her to flush,

saves herself, tooth and claw,

for Dad.

–

Even in daytime, the wolves

don’t rest. Nikolai was taken at noon.

Rising wind screamed like a child

in the sleigh-driver’s ears,

and falling snow buried

the smell of blood.

–

Running isn’t fast enough.

–

Wolves can’t climb, I whisper,

over and over, but I fall asleep

with my head under cover,

and lie with my legs tight-crossed

if I wake in the night.

–

My parents’ voices whip

like winter winds on Russian plains,

and I stay awake,

remembering the boy Nikolai.

–

–

first published in Tarot online journal, issue 1, December 2020