|General Poetry posted November 8, 2013||Chapters:||...32 34 -35- 36...|
A chapter in the book Steve's Story-Poems
ABAB Poetry Contest Contest Winner
To the campfire came a stranger
Though he never said a word,
Still he wore the cloak of danger
Like a predatory bird.
I remember night was falling
And a storm was drawing near
When this mystery man came calling,
Filled us all with shades of fear.
Tall and gloomy pines surrounding
Cast cruel shadows over all
Setting fearful hearts a-pounding;
Silent snow fell like a pall.
Then we hurried to our shelter,
Just a lean-to, nothing more,
While snow-flakes helter-skelter
Doused the fire's friendly roar.
We, the aimless and the nameless,
Fleeing fortune's random spite,
Some quite blameless, others shameless,
Huddled up against the night.
Bitter wind began a howling,
Made a soul feel ill at ease,
Seemed a beast from Hell was prowling,
Slinking unseen 'mongst the trees.
Of a sudden, lightning crashing
Lit the woods with ghostly flare
Then I saw my doom go flashing
'Cross the stranger's shadowed stare.
In the hooded eyes, a yearning
Such a sadness, deep and dark,
And a torment fiercely burning
Glittered there, a sullen spark.
Now there stirred a memory haunting
From the bleakness of my past
And the grim one's wordless taunting
Promised reckoning at last.
Like a jerky film-reel blinking
On a silent, dusty screen
I re-lived my hell of drinking
And that final bloody scene.
Two small children and their mother
Lay there dying in the street;
All the blame passed to another;
How he paid for my deceit!
Through the years I'd fled that terror
With my guilt in grim pursuit,
Paying for that grievous error -
Three torn bodies lying mute.
Then the heavens roared their thunder
And the lightning's savage cut
Carved a mighty trunk asunder;
Sent it toppling t'wards our hut.
To my mates I cried a warning,
Shoved them clear from certain death,
Knew they'd make it safe to morning,
Though it be with my last breath.
'Cross my chest the tree fell, crushing,
And the pain surged in a flood.
Next the dark wolf, death, came rushing
Through the snow stained with my blood.
Then the stranger came to hold me;
Now his face glowed like the sun.
Oh so gently then he told me,
"Welcome home again, my son."
ABAB Poetry Contest
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