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An inopportune boy
runs away, gets pushed
to the ground
where he’s taunted
and beaten.

An old lady sits
with her crossword,
says ‘hate’
is a four letter word
meaning ‘have it in for.’

Her husband is senile
but when he was young
he trained shepherd dogs
to recognize death
and find fallen soldiers.

Cicadas,
hidden in the trees,
were taught to play Brahms,
but rebel every night
and just scream.

Nicely put together. I want there to be a connection among these three, sort of its own short story, but that last stanza is the poem for me.

I can only echo Ken. Terrific last stanza

I'm glad you found the password
and to see you posting again
welcome back.

Thanks for reading guys and thanks for the welcome back Frank.