Little man, little man
You softness stains my fingers
White, but unlike that
Of baby's bed or nodding flower.
The colour of teeth, clenched, smiling
Smile for me, the backdoor is open
To let in silence, loud enough
To put a cold hand across
Loud thoughts' incessant mouths.
Your smallness is endearing,
I'm sure you will not hurt me-
So small, so small,
Stand in the threshold
Of my back door
And bring the silence with you.