Where Banshees Brought Me
Gusts hurled blustery fists outside
And threw, with sweeps, the rain
That lashed against the draughty glass
Of the sunken window-pane;
I caught the squalling croon
Of a thousand drowning choirs;
The wailing caterwauled across
Plunging downs and dipping mires –
I heard them beckon me outside;
Their morbid song, lifting in pitch,
Led me from a restive mood
To the turbid depths of a ditch;
The wails turned to aqueous gasps –
Into the ditch I tripped and fell;
The rain filled in the dug-up grave
And there’s little else to tell…
Except that here I drowned with ease –
My thoughts: the bricks around this well.
Alan Morrison © 2008
recently published in The London Magazine
from A Tapestry of Absent Sitters (Waterloo Press, 2009)
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