Poem 20160319

musty motel, the bedsprings groan
my suitcase and a broken phone
the voice i hear forever moans
never alone, never alone

my pocket’s full of finger bones
worn smooth like ancient magic stones
guarded by shrouded, cackling crones
shrill monotones, shrill monotones

outside the blackbirds all have flown
inside blossom the seeds i’ve sown
the shadows growl, calls the unknown
a blank headstone, a blank headstone

——
Jane Dougherty Writes
Poetry challenge #22: Monotetra

8 thoughts on “Poem 20160319

  1. The musty hotel and “my pocket’s full of finger bones,”–wonderful. I can imagine Rod Serling saying, “You’ve taken a trip to The Twilight Zone.”

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