Raven's Cradle

 

The dead in me joins October leaves

in their decaying crush to crumble

toward spring.

 

With every raking of unnecessary

I deny night monsters their insomniac delight

in watching me pace hours I can’t reclaim.

 

Raven wing shadows usher Poe’s ink to coffin

daylight’s misery so sleep can write its poems

across my weary eyelids.


©Susie Clevenger 2020

Friday Flash 55

Comments

  1. Ah Susie--the opening is bitterly perfect and those last lines just exquisite. As is the way you manipulate the shadows to bring your mood alive--or at least undead. Haunting and evocative of all the malaise we pack inside our skins which seems to come out after dark to laugh in our faces. Thanks so much for playing, and for kicking the weekends' ass with this immaculate 55.

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  2. Every line is stunning and full of imagery the seeps deep into the heart. I adore that first line! It grabbed me and pulled me in! Amazing as always Susie!

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  3. This was/is immensely satisfying ... each stanza stands on its own, proudly/beautifully.

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  4. Beautiful, Susie. Maybe dreamland is where the poetry lives?

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  5. You've set the perfect mood for October, Susie. I've your opening stanza especially.

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  6. insomnia and monsters do go hand in glove ~

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