For Sherry’s Prompt on Real Toads. “The Moors, the lowering skies, the ruins of a castle, the ghosts of times long past, the phantom tinkling of a piano, and …………. Go! In 313 words or less.” This is well under the word limit -169 words – a long poem for me.
The Darkness
“We all have a Monster within; the difference is in degree, not in kind.” ― Douglas Preston, The Monster of Florence
in the woods across the road there is a corner –
dark amidst the brightness of green
and tree filtered light.
the corner is in the northwest quadrant
and in that space is a small stone, old
and covered with moss beginning to crumble.
on the stone is Rest in Peace and it points
to the west – not the east.
the people who buried this person
hoped he would not rise again.
the corner is dark, even at high noon –
the corner is always cold, even in the midst of summer.
heavy dead vines, like calcified snakes
strangle the life out of the two trees
in that corner, no green growth,
no animal life, even the fallen leaves
blow away in the wind leaving the hard earth
bare. I don’t know who is buried there.
I just know I walk past
the place quickly, with my fingers crossed,
and my head down.
The darkness calls out to me
but I dare not heed.
I dare not heed.