A Price To Pay
Cold
down hometown lane
moth pulled
to the beacon blue
thick siren wail of
death’s ghastly debut.
Cruel
spiteful pother
masked sight
of the wrecking ball
that snuffed my young friends
Flavian candle
Crushed
sanguinary
grisly mound
flecked with scarlet dew
which grim grey blanket
can’t hide from my view
Chill
wires bind my legs
but run
with blood like cold lead
while by the school’s yard
I was the one dead
Chatter
had preceded me
with news
of corpse with fair hair
many gasped and cried
as I now stood there
Class
united in tears
we sang,
with dust motes dancing
in sunlit eddies,
“Morning Has Broken”
Paul I have been reading your work in Got Poetry and several venues and it continues to grow, your writing is deep yet I have found it reaching the surface, as this poem, it is wonderful and it sounds like you, I believe you get excited over writing, and the words show this. Sincerely, Nancy