Snarling Night

Written for:  The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #341

Words:  haul, sharp, hearth, bar, mind, trunk, saw, apart, snarling, arms, small, scar

Sharp, snarling winds
wailed across the heathered
heath, pulling the lovers
apart. He stretched his arms
out, heart beating wildly.
Reached the small of her back,
and held fast to her red
shawl until gusts galloped
past. They had paid no mind,
were blind to the weather’s
abrupt change. Sky scarred
black as they ran back
to where they had left
the trunk.  Hauled it back 
to the village. Blue neon
sign blinked in the window
of Benedict’s. Good, a relief
to see it was still open. The couple
entered, made their way over to
warmth of a burning hearth.
Asked barkeep for two hot
buttered rums. Customers
took furtive peeks at the trunk resting
beneath the table. Well, they would
tend to the contents of that trunk


About purplepeninportland

I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York. My goal is to create and share poetry with others who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve in you, and feel your sparks as well.
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9 Responses to Snarling Night

  1. rothpoetry says:

    Oh, you are keeping us guessing on this one!!!


  2. jaerose37 says:

    What an intriguing story and fine piece of prose


  3. oldegg says:

    In my carousing days I often wondered why anyone would bring a huge package, suitcase of even a trunk into a pub. So your poem is quite apt. There was alawys someone that asked “what have you got there?” However the answer was never interesting! A mystery always best unsolved.


  4. colonialist says:

    From wild weather to warmth and comfort, and curiosity. This certainly has a wide range!


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