THE WHISPER OF –
Who?
Yes, I can see you. How could I not?
You come here to visit, oh! quite a lot!
You won’t come inside. Is that too much to ask?
Are you so afraid? Is it too much of a task?
You won’t join the others that surround me each day.
But, then, maybe your visit isn’t for play.
If you have a message, please let me know.
You come here for hours, but then, I see you go.
Never to linger! No, that wouldn’t be you.
All I see is the white smoky whisper of –
Who?
About the Creator
Margaret Brennan
I am a 77-year old grandmother who loves to write, fish, and grab my camera to capture the beautiful scenery I see around me.
My husband and I found our paradise in Punta Gorda Florida where the weather always keeps us guessing.
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More stories from Margaret Brennan and writers in Poets and other communities.
The Road to Nowhere
Trigger warnings: Violence, Death. "May the Sun burn your tongue out, woman," Fredrick's father screamed the curse into his mother's ear as their elegant little carriage rumbled along, its polished wood and gilded trim glinting in the torchlight. They had just left the small village of Saffron and were on an unnamed road to the capital for the Royal wedding. Fredrick leaned back in his plush velvet seat to escape into the passing landscape, but across from him sat the servant boy, a scrappy lad named Jack. Jack's eyes held a mixture of awe and fear, the kind that only a commoner could feel in the presence of nobility. Jack looked up and caught Fredrick's gaze, offering him a sad little smile before reaching into his pocket and retrieving a little caramel treat. This candy was no doubt stolen from the kitchen treat cupboard; if he was caught with it, he would be locked in the box as punishment.
By Frank English8 days ago in Fiction
Comments (3)
That was a beautiful poem.
Margaret, methinks the visitor is our thoughts whispering about aging. I am up there too, and each day, I cannot believe it. This is a thought-provoking poem that should make everyone think because the years fly by. Bravo!
Seeing those ghosts again?