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Beneath the opaque window
crickets croon an autumn tune.
I lie in bed restless as visions blossom
from tattered family snapshots.

Blood drips—dense
from father’s drunken brow.
It pools on threadbare carpet,
while the junkie plunges deep
a sting of desperation.
The turkey weeps,
there are no cranberries this year

Mother kisses the cross then
hugs the cold, crass casket.
Winds disperse her wails
in the cicada’s chant.
Trees bow in suffrage
beyond the needle’s reach...


©2008-2010 ~KennethSnow
:iconkennethsnow:

Author's Comments

A favorite of mine.

Comments


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:iconchild-of-mithra:
Perhaps the most astounding imagery you have submitted. It is also quite skillfully crafted considering all that is presented here in such beautifully simplistic verse. With each submission there is only progression. Bravo.
Peace.
:iconyouinventedme:
this is great. the second
stanza is my favorite
and the entire flow
is fantastic.


xo!

--
one half of *ZombiesAteUs
:iconkennethsnow:
Thanks for the glowing comment...I agree that the middle stanza is the strongest.

--
:peace:

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October 1, 2008
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