In that eerie night, moonless and scary
lake reflected the dark sky, like a tapered glass
I could hear the scary sounds of rustling
moss, the kelp, the zebrafish, the very mice and flies,
These tiny, humble, wordless things --
how shall they tell us lies?
What had made me come here in the first place
walking through a country of gray sponges and silent boats
that too alone without a torch,
my heart was chilled, body so taut
sooner or later drown in the indigos of darkness,
but now, for a while,the roughage
of fauna held my feet down,
my heartbeat could be heard a mile away
Invisible twines entangled me
can't you just imagine my predicament-
Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs
of deathly unknown creatures of the night giving
in to the panicky feeling I surrendered myself for the inevitable ending,
my head spinning, splitting apart.
Something fell heavy on my feet.
Jolted, I picked up my book.
"interestingly, I had become a character
in that book I had been reading, in my bed"
This is offered for Totally optional prompts (Novel?) as well as patchwork poetry. Lines
have have taken from poetry by Catherine Faber, Federico Garcia Lorca, Mary Oliver and
Robert Frost, in that order, and patched into it. Click on the links to read the whole poems.