Saturday, July 06, 2013

V. 2, #100: July 6, 2013

Behind the old abandoned house, there stands
a stone globe on a base of plain cement,
unmarked, and six feet high. A monument
to what, the former owner of these lands
alone would know, and he's been in his grave
a hundred years. He had a son, I've heard,
who left his family home without a word
the day he came of age, no more a slave
to his strict father's whims. One summer night
I chanced to walk nearby while on my way
back home, and saw it bathed in eerie light,
like cold blue flame. Then, with a mighty groan,
the sphere shifted, and turned. I didn't stay
to find out more. I won't go back alone.

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