making a lie
of the bright blue sky
the ice crept nearer and nearer
now in the street
now on the walk
approaching the house
it came stalking, stalking, stalk...
By Kay L. Davies, March, 2013
Images from publicdomainimages.net — Alejandro Lizardo (top), and Robert Kraft
Mama Zen has challenged us to become Poe-ets today, to look outside and write about what we see there, but to make our poem frightening in the style of Edgar Allan Poe.
With apologies to the ghost of Poe, which phantom, I'm sure, walks in the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, I drifted into the narrative style of Alfred Noyes in my last line.
However, I did look out the window at the street in front of our house, and patches of ice still lurk there, despite the blue of the sky.