Lights shine from within though no one’s lived there for years. The unliving, though...
JNW’s Halloween Challenge: Scary
Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge: Houses and Barns
Occupied
7
Category Archives: poetry
Grave Warning
If you be brave, pass through this gate
but be forewarned there death awaits.
On this dark night, old headstones glow.
Bones shift and stir in graves below.
Outstretched limbs point to the sky.
Leaves rustle as fanged bats pass by.
When midnight tolls on Halloween,
ghosts rise to haunt this eerie scene.
The gate will close as morning nears.
Those trapped inside will disappear.
Next Halloween when the gate swings wide
they’ll at last return from the other side.
Cauldron Quandary
Boiling, bubbling, very troubling. Make just one batch or go for doubling?
Sea Spectres
fog bank steals ashore pirate ghosts from sunken ships unseen plunderers
It Takes All Kinds
Underfoot
autumn leaf carpet shifting patterns in the wind green grass underlay
Catch of the Day
spider sleeps in web dreams of netting trophy flies wakes to find stink bug
Swept Away
sweep me off my feet take me to the moon and back you magical broom
I Just Want to Be
“I’m miserable,” she utters despondently.
Her head drops to the table,
face smushed into the sleeves of her sweatshirt.
“I just want to be happy.”
Happy? Hell, I’d settle for functional.
“Is that too much to ask?”
She sniffles into her sleeve.
“Not at all,” he says.
“Everyone deserves to be happy.”
Kind eyes. Calm voice. Practiced cadence.
How does one deserve an emotion? I wonder.
Either you feel it, or you don’t.
Or is it a state, and not an emotion?
The state of happiness…
Can one deserve to be in a state?
What about the state of depression?
No one deserves that, that’s for sure.
Then again, no one would likely say,
“I just want to be depressed.”
The clock on the wall seems frozen.
I will the hands to move more quickly.
They don’t.
Perhaps I don’t deserve a faster clock.
He turns toward me. Observation mode.
I don’t meet his gaze, but I don’t look away, either.
Blank eyes. Silence. Practiced apathy.
“And how are you this morning?” he asks gently.
I consider the question.
Perhaps I should have prepared a response.
It’s not like I didn’t know he’d ask.
“Depressed,” I say.
“That’s why I’m here.”
I just want to be well.
Is that too much to ask?
The Daily Post Discovery Challenge: Radical Authenticity
Boo?
pale dog haunts the night loveable apparition fails to cause a fright
What Rhymes with Stanza? 