Monday, January 25, 2010

The Reminder

Jim Wisneski
Headstones balanced against a fresh sunset. The dark curves - upside down smiles - stare back. They’re calling. Stems ride from the dead ground. A faded picture - curls and sways - with no breeze. Can you hear ghosts whispering? Or the soul of the living. . . They huddle to the black gates. The bicycle on the ground. One wheel still spinning - click, click, click. Can you smell the cold air? Its fingers reach inside. Lighted steps hobble. Create an underground thunder. The roar of life - the celebration. With the round reminders. . . They’re waiting


Michelle said...

Freaky! chilling. Well done :)

Cynthia Schuerr said...

The first time I read your poem, Jim, I was interrupted by the phone and got totally sidetracked.
This morning, I read it all the way through.
My body is still shivering at the thought that...'They're waiting.
Very cryptic and chilling.
Great job!

Jim_Wisneski said...

Thanks Michelle and Cynthia for the comments here.