They found her cardoor ajarblood snakingacross a gravel lotin a mysterious rivuletpetering out like hopeOnce we forgetshe’ll risewith no clichéset about righting wrongsthe old-fashioned waylie for liesand universal requiting
#19 of 30 Poems in November to benefit the Center for New Americans. Today’s theme is BLOODSHED. This was also inspired by Brendan’s DOORS prompt in the Imaginary Garden and am sharing with the Toads!
The poem is a "mysterious rivulet / petering out like hope" -- which rouses from that moor a predilection for justice. I'm rooting. The balance of mist and might is finely wrought.
ReplyDeleteMy goodness Marian! This is incredibly haunting right from "in a mysterious rivulet petering out like hope" and oh "she’ll rise with no cliché set about righting wrongs the old-fashioned way." Beautifully executed!
ReplyDeleteHow we quickly forget...
ReplyDeleteand justice might come and we will not like it.
Anna :o]
The first stanza really allowed me to weave a story of my own (especially with the title in mind)... and maybe justice will come (we could just hope)
ReplyDeleteReminds me of that old song... Woke up this morning and my momma was gone...
ReplyDeleteCould have been anything that took her away.
OMG! Chirpy chirpy cheep cheep!!!
DeleteI think about that song all the time. So funny you made that connection. xoxo
I used to feel this way when my girls were teenagers. Yes, I thought about that long car drive, random blood, and no body. lol Escape!
ReplyDelete