Not been for many years
Don't know why I came
An odd feeling brought me back
No plans to stay, didn't look the same
Yet something pulled
Some connection to the past
Had to know the reason
The attraction growing fast
I knocked, the door swung open
Her voice called, "Please dear, come in".
Dark, save for the filtered sun
Again her voice, so saccharin
From somewhere up above
Beckoning, as I climbed the stair.
On the landing hung a rope
Beside it stood a chair
In the doorway stood her shrouded figure
faintly glowing hidden face
A gnarled hand bade me sit
Entranced I took my place
The rope's rough surface
Scratched the skin around my neck
I smelled the woman's ugly breath
As she gave my cheek a peck
The chair legs squeaked
Sliding forward on the landing
Falling down the rope bit tight
Without the chair, left dangling
Through fading sight
She dropped her shroud
And with final struggling
I cried aloud... "Mother!"
YOU ARE READING
Poems Primarily Narrative (or not)
PoetryFIRST PLACE COFFEE AFTER DARK WRITING CONTEST - JULY 2020 This collection has no particular category or message. They are errant thoughts and observations on various subjects. If interested, I hope you find some you enjoy.
