It would seem at first, that making this dangerous journey during the longer days of summer, would have been the better choice. The lack of foliage in winter however, made it harder for them to hide. Unfortunately, it also could make it easier for them to hunt us at night.
I feel the cold in my bones sliding under my skin My body creaks and groans I feel the cold in my bones My limbs are not my own Something lurks deep within I feel the cold in my bones sliding under my skin
faint shapes and shadows the world is a watermark becoming a stain
The cold crept in quietly overnight, crawling and creeping its way into the flowerbeds, smothering the silent screams of the huddled blooms. It left them shriveled and twisted, and lingered in the morning light to admire its work. The flower corpses remained tangled in the dirt flowerbeds for an entire day. Eventually they were unceremoniously ripped from the earth later by their caretakers and dumped into plastic buckets while the cold leered from the shadows. The flowerbeds remained bare, like freshly mounded graves, for the rest of winter. winter’s cold grip strangles the last remnants of autumn’s blooms ****** Thank you Freeverse Revolution for the prompt, monster. I took some inspiration from a poem I saw posted earlier by Basilike Pappa, and tried to us personification in this one. If you interested in seeing what other new things poets are trying this week, check in with the Dverse crowd.
When I saw the moon lingering in the morning sky, merely a pale shadow, I didn’t think much of it. It wasn’t until I noticed it day after day, loitering in the noontime sky that I began to contemplate the terrible cosmic consequences of its continued presence in the daylight.
wind lashes trees drives foliage away leaves the world cold grey
hungry morning chill searching for the sounds, the words in starving quiet
the morning shimmer holding the world silent, still in its ghostly grip
The moon bathes you in a glow Eyes flutter and breathing slows Flowers shudder in a vase Thin shadows caress your face A silhouette looms in the door You wonder what it’s looking for Fog presses against the window panes You blood thunders in your veins The shadow looms with outstretched hands Time slips away like sand
When the light fades Don’t go into the woods The leaves whisper and persuade When the light fades Roots tangle and invade It should be understood When the light fades Don’t go into the woods
