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A FRIGHTENED CHILD

Late within a sleepless night
moon shining through the window bright
I perceive a bird descending
in a flight near never ending
its dive giving me a fright.

For I was at grandmother's house
back when I was a mere mouse
underneath strange covers shaking
all of my false courage quaking
laid bare bravery I'd espoused.

The night crow perched on window's tree
seeming to stare in at me
with eyes which seemed to read my soul
as I laid peering out of my bedroll
frightened of what I might see.

And the wind moaned against the eave
through limbs as dense as in a sieve
as the crow began to caw
near words coming from its maw
which, it seemed, I could perceive.

He told of dead ones young and old
of warriors both meek and bold
how he'd carried souls away
always at night, never the day
after the bodies had turned cold.

Then he fixed his gaze, gave me a fright
his eyes stared both baleful and bright
"I've come to take a soul away
but yours will be another day."
He took my granny's soul that night.

Last few words: 
A bit of Poe trying to escape
Editing stage: 

Comments

children see things
I used too..
spirits and such
told my mom and she
threatened to put me up
with the headshrinkers
I didnt care about that
just being taken away
from my momma...
(think of Norma bates..that was ma and I)
so I learned to shut that side
down...not off...
its still here...
an old friend

we were taught Snow birds..like
owls with monsterous eyes right
at twilight or dusk would watch
us from trees and report back
to santa...kind of like cold war
shit...Oh the snow bird saw
you being disobedient...no toys
for U this xmas..why xmas
by the time it arrived with its
shitload of toys was kind of
a meltdown letdown
fear kept me awake more
then expectation and I never
felt like I deserved any of it
shellshock survivor guilt

still afraid of birds..
and wonder of them...

this is like Poe which I read
much of his works and then
tons of books about his life..
an interesting man...
sorry too hear of your
grannies passing
..
Thank U!

sorry for late reply .been off line.Hope you and yours are well..........Stan

author comment

My child got that too....most of it leaves
as we grow...Creative side might have
something to do with that!

Its interesting as our knowledge of world
science and the modern amenities
push away the wilds for most..
Cell phones...reliable power
good water..sanitation and the
lesser of hunger!

Over all...Beneath this poverty
exists...rural living and even city
living for many is a struggle
Power bills..tenant..housing
addictions...gambling...substance
etc....still exist...a dominant force!

But the wilds....Natural essence
I grew up in a small town!
not far from stores...or major
hub...Parents lived through depression
but my dads parents were
solid..garden...income...a few animals
like hog..chickens..cow for milk
fresh water...Hunted in fall fished in winter
and had canned vegetables..
My mother arrived...thirties..dad born twenty
four...mother thirties...Mom and her six
sisters left Toronto from granpas gambling
debt owed south....If they didnt have my
dad who cut wood with a cross cut..or his
mom helping them and neighbors they
would have had a harder time!
but they survived.....All went on to better
things.....

When the power went out in winter sometimes
during storms we would bundle up and go
the quarter mile to Grandparents house
built eighteen eighty nine...The box two story
with the big rounded top window on stair
Twelve twelve roof...Up here it was the standard
pattern....Porch optional...but many had them
Woodstove with water heater..breadwarmer
a must! Garage for cars pre thirties...
Summer the phones would get knocked out
and hydro would be off for days somethings
Nights I remember sitting about a hurricane
lamp Or the small kerosene light they put in
the railroad switch lamps..Scotia Junction
existed..From the old crossing of Grand Trunk
and JR BOOTHS rail line...Eighteen hundreds
grandpa worked the railroad....Gramma worked
the old Albion Hotel...a hop skip and a jump
away.....

They parents would tell their parents stories
with the wind howling on the windows and lightning
smashing all about....rain pouring on the roof
and windows it was not hard to imagine the primitive
land then....We drove to see relatives living scattered
across the rolling old farmland and poor soil run out
empty farm houses..tilting barns....meadows swamps
and saved Mature forests on rough land never cut
the tilting old master of trees.....Foggy nights would
add to the mystery in summer with the old tales of
strange animals and people....calamity and haunted
ghost stories....

All the constant lighting.....noise...calmer weather up
here as it gets wilder in other regions of the world
gives one time to think about that...
I used to snowmobile about....a seventy nine three
forty ski doo...out the old rail bed...through said
crooked old forests where its not hard to imagine
faces and wolves and other creatures...
always worried about the machine breaking down..
But there it is..
The wilds are still here...
the spirits are still there...
our historys spoken we retain
as the now older aging generation
as a child we helped tend the grandparents
garden...and flower collection
lost arts of the edwardian era of their parents

I rare go up in the urban forest..
but I can feel the forest..sense the
animals..the dog sniffs them and whines
at dusk....Its very enthralling

Thank U for the memories
of the early days

Mr Wolf!

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