Poem: "Sonset"
This poem came out of the August 16, 2011 perk fishbowl. It was prompted by minor_architect, jenny_evergreen, and meeksp. It's posted as the second freebie, courtesy of new donor kitrona. This is a Veterans Day poem, by the way, and the flowers mentioned are all symbolic of remembrance. It falls fairly near the beginning of the Monster House series.
Sonset
The rocking chair in the living room
sat empty and still.
Yellow ribbons fluttered in the November wind,
tied around the the oak trees
bracketing the walkway to our house.
The little old lady ghost
stood on the front porch,
barely visible in the tawny light.
With her stood another ghost, a tall young man
with the same heart-shaped face as hers,
his severed right arm tucked under his left,
uniform so splattered with blood and mud
that it could scarcely be identified.
"Who is that?"
my girl whispered.
"Her son," I explained.
"She always invites him to stay with her,
and he always declines."
As I watched, the young man shook his head
and strode toward the street.
His mother's shoulders slumped
as she sat down on the steps.
"We should go, if we're going,"
said my girl. "The cemetery closes at sunset."
So we went, the two of us,
and the little old lady ghost riding along silently.
The cemetery wasn't so busy this late in the day.
My girl laid the first bouquet on her grandfather's grave,
and I laid the second on my cousin's.
Then we walked to the far corner
where stood the dimpled slab of white marble,
name and dates long since worn away,
that had become our local "tomb of the unknown soldier."
The grass around it already shimmered with frost
and approaching it felt like leaning into a winter wind,
air oppressive as a crowd.
"Excuse us," I said. "Coming through, please."
The air shifted, lightening faintly
as the unseen, unfamiliar ghosts stepped aside.
I laid the final bouquet at the foot of the smooth headstone:
red poppies, white roses, and blue forget-me-nots.
"We'll wait for you in the car,"
I said to the little old lady ghost.
So we sat in the car, my girl and I,
watching the last red light seep toward the horizon,
shadows lengthening toward us.
I held her hand in mine,
so warm and alive,
so very precious.