Written for the 10/27/13 The Sunday Whirl Wordle 132 – A dozen poetry prompts: sheet, yearn, immeasurable, pebble, clay, flames, bend, waking, still, safe, erode, inky.
One autumn night when all was still,
my blood ran cold, but not from chill.
Awaking on a pebble road,
a tremor made the earth erode.
These feet of clay were quick to fold.
Immeasurable fear took hold
within me when I gazed upon
an eerie presence on the lawn.
Was this a child of trick or treat
or was there nothing ‘neath the sheet?
When flames appeared where eyes should be,
the inky vision drew near me.
The power of this ghostly waif
would make me yearn for places safe.
Too late, I learned I couldn’t scream.
This poltergeist was not a dream.
It taunted me to bend in shame
as bloody chisels etched my name
upon a stone that crushed my head
and, thus, I joined the living dead.
© Susan Schoeffield