Wednesday, November 28, 2012


He revels in his catch
feeling elated
 tossed over the bank to the asphalt
a beer can clinks
the drink his reward
for his hard work
the breeze cool against his face
he is a sot

The old road winding
 with hidden views
danger abounds
a beer can clinks

This day a tired driver
sleepy and hurried
rounds the final curve

The crunch of metal
as it slams against the tree
catches his attention for a moment
but not long enough
to be of interest
to him

He goes about his casting
not looking or caring that she lay
motionless on the ground
her breathing labored
tossed from the steel jaws
a beer can clinks by her head

Overcome by the darkness
It was too late for him to
notice or care
she is gone.

The darkness
Oh, the darkness takes her away.


LaughingRaccoon said...

Wow! Maybe you SHOULDN'T read Scott's stuff, lol. Not your usual fare. I like it, though.

Ann Mullen said...

Actually, I wrote this poem about 10 or so years ago. I was going to send it to Streetlight Mag in Charlottesville. All the poems in that mag were dark, so I got dark. Never did send it in. Found it in a file on my computer, and had to laugh.

Ann Mullen said...
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