Ghost Story
Down an alley telling tales
to 12 year olds. They gasp,
scan the shadows for body parts,
and horses come from hell
(of course it’s lies,
no children were murdered here
and made into pies).
“Later when you go past,
you might feel a hand
plucking at your sleeve” and
see in the smudge of glass
a small child, moon eyed,
the image of yourself,
that year, that night,
so rapt and so alive
(it’s sad but true,
the only haunting here’s
by you).
5 comments:
I love how you've described scaring yourself [usually with a parent's help] as such a rite of childhood passage. Nicely done.
Enjoying the series, are you really going to make a pop up book?? - what a great idea!
As above, so below.
What is going to pop up?
This is excellent - precise and coherent ghost poem. As, hope, says you make this into a compact ghost scare right of passage. Capture it well.
I really enjoyed this- reading and rereading.
I love ghost stories - and scaring myself witless - and this is right up my scary dark alley!
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