The Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday this week is Can. Bonus points if you start and or finish with Can. Make of it what you may but enjoy.
#SoCs
The Rules and Pingback are here at LindaGHill‘s blog.
Canada
Dry can rolls down
Wet and empty alley
All that’s left is an empty can
Dry can.
Here we are at the unholy month of October. I thought I would do a paranormal, witchy, unholy bunch of poems, some new and some old.
Don’t forget to check out Jane Dougherty and Kat Myrman‘s plans for this month!
Today’s poem is about one of Death’s family
SKULLS
The girl was a mystery an anathema out of orbit and out of sight
She moved silently shrouded in dark moving by night.
She had an endless yet important job to perform
All skulls must and souls must be collected by dawn.
Moonlight’s silver was all she had ever known
No warmth from the sun, in dark she has grown
Her dress spun from cobwebs lovingly made
By spiders oozing silk thread, around her parade.
Though the night was all that she knew
She longed for the sun and to see skies of blue
Sadly as part of Death’s family
She was condemned to the dark, never to be free.
Skulls, and innocent souls of women, babies and men,
Her tears long dried up, she gathered again and again.
Pleading and begging for time off, did her no good
Death simply demanded she did as she should.
The girl was a mystery an anathema out of orbit and out of sight
She moved silently shrouded in dark moving by night.
KL CALEY
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