Just when you thought it was safe to read this blog again–poetry returns. This piece has undergone a lot of revision, (and I still don’t know how happy I am with the finished product) but it’s been on my hard drive for a year, so I think it’s time to share.
In October Town, kids want to be in by dark,
even on Halloween. What’s inside is scarier
than what you’d see in any theater.
People keep to themselves,
no making friends in this war zone.
Everyone wears a costume,
you never know who buries his Hyde
beneath a Jekyll mask.
Everywhere you go, you will see ghosts.
Those who couldn’t leave while living,
can’t escape in death either.
Here, the grass is grey, folded over year round.
At night, no matter where you look,
a branch arcs out across the moon,
the broken shine reminding you
of pure things you’ve damaged,
some beyond repair.
So many others like her,
cities of closed doors, drawn curtains,
where they say look the other way,
even if those in need are children.
Her somber ease will lure like siren’s song.
Her grip, that liquid quicksand, seizes the soul.
You think you can resist, maybe tame her.
That’s what all the others said,
the ones you find around every corner.