Avatar Author: Stovohobo _Great stories happen to those who can tell them._ -Ira Glass, although he attributed it to Anonymous. If you comment my stuff, please be as nit-picky as necessary. I crave constructive criticism. Also alliteration.... Read Bio

The air is stiff,
as stiff as my spine
against naked wooden pews.
Solemn murmurs glide
from pillar to pillar
as crackling fabric
gnaws at my skin.

Bursts of color—
draping bouquets,
lonely rose
on Grandma’s lapel;
filtered light and dust
spill through stained glass.

A figure in white,
glowing like an angel,
swings a pendulum over you,
a ball and chain, tethering,
tolling your bell.

Above, His face,
peaceful and pained,
hopeful and weary for you.
Later, your own lined face
would be seen,
as closed as in living sleep.

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Comments (3 so far!)

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  1. Avatar Stovohobo

    Alas, I haven’t posted a story in 5 months. I figured the start of our poetry unit in English would be as good a time as any.

    This assignment was to focus on a memory’s imagery.

  2. Avatar Abstract

    I like the imagery. It took me a second to realize what was being described, and when I did, everything clicked together like a Lego set.

  3. Avatar cthulhuburger

    Welcome back!

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