All posts filed under: Strange Writing

The Forest Route

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.

The Frost

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.

The Bite

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