Monday, December 04, 2006

#225: December 4, 2006

There's one blue pool out there on Langham's land--
not hard to get to, just behind the shed--
where, if you go on moonlit nights and stand
an hour or two, in it you'll see the Dead.

Sometimes it's loved ones--lost kids, murdered wives,
and such as that--but mostly it's the shapes
of strangers, staring, envying the lives
outside, their eyes black marbles, mouths agape.

They never speak--they just stand there and sway,
and pebbles tossed won't make the shades disperse;
then, close to sunrise, they just fade away
to heaven, hell, or maybe something worse:

A black room with one window to the sky
through which the moon stares like a blind white eye.

Appeared in the early 08 edition of Aberrant Dreams.

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