Swings

Tree limb holds the tyre
On twisted rope it swings
Water a leech holds on
As it rocks to and fro

The ground beneath solid
Blades of grass hidden
Kiss the hardened soil
From where they grow

The air is brittle
A cry is heard
Wings cast shadows
‘Cross silvered moon

Orphaned leaves circle
Gathering strength within the wind
And the cry is now a scream
Inside the abandoned barn

Beyond the shadows she is seen
Arched back, waist length hair
Iced in steel swords
She levitates below the beams

Turning to see whose entered
Bones break and could be heard
Onyx eyes stare in my direction
Help engraved into her forehead

 

Perhaps I’ve been watching too many movies of late, but trying to get back into what I enjoy.

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22 thoughts on “Swings

  1. Oh how I could picture the woman in the barn suspended and the word “Help” as you expressed it so eloquently put. Jen, this macabre form of writing is a great balance to read. I sometimes prefer the mystery over the platitudes that I tend to write. I can see how this could get your “angst” out, too. Remember I have only written two of these kinds, one an employee kills his mother and the remains will never be found and the other in the foggy graveyard, where I lie. You have the technique and originality in your writings! (Also, there is an audience for this style!) xoxo ❤
    Hugs to YOU, the family, baby to be and Poppa and your Mum, too.

    • I appreciate your feedback as always darling. I do remember your stories, this style of writing is certainly for those who enjoy the macabre. ☺️ Thank you for your wishes to my family, that is so sweet of you and thoughtful. Appreciated. xoxo❤️

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