in any country.
Every era sophisticates
weapons. Death is
of wounds. I carry
my lantern in late
hours. The light
pools around my feet,
and projects ahead.
Keeps me from stepping
on the dead.
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.
Dark streets do invite crime for sure. Wishing you a wonderful week and fun Halloween Sara!
Good wishes to you, Carrie.
Oy, the closing lines lend a wonderfully spooky air to this fine poem.
A dark poem for a Halloween weekend. BOOOOOOOOOO.
This takes me to those dark city streets I’ve walked at times, desperate, dependent on what light is give to see me safely through them.
Loved the eery ending. Very spooky.
That’s why I don’t walk down dark streets.
Haven’t stepped on a bod yet either.
I didn’t expect that last line. Grim and sobering and thought provoking. It makes me stop and think of the true cost of the evils of the modern world.
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Whoa. A chilling write – especially the ending!
Interesting: is the speaker carrying the light for the community or themselves?