Words of Foreboding (Part One)


Words of Foreboding (Part One)

"The World is changing," she whispered to no one in particular. The street lamps buzzed over her head like a dirty halo of ultrviolet discord.
"Pardon?" I reply, not really understanding where her statement came from in the tomb-like silence.
"You'll see, pretty little thing," and turned her catlike green gaze my way. Unease crept into my skin as though a frost was coming on. It was only July, however, so such was outlandish.
As I shuffled a few paces away from the older woman, she grabbed my arm in a vise. Her hands were freezing and wrinkled in her kid gloves. "Beware the blotting of the Sun on a black horizon. He will bring Death and Destruction among us, should we become unwary," she hissed into the air around me.
"Let go of me woman!!" I cried in growing fear and despair, and among those emotions, a small part pity for her.
"He will test your soul, pretty thing, He will tempt your reason. Should you be wise, you will run," she said in a lower voice. I stared at her, eyes narrowing in confusion, then as the bus pulled up to the curb, she let go of me. As I turned to her, she practically ran up the stairs onto the smoking carriage. The people inside were blurry eyed from lack of sleep, some showing signs of aging right before my eyes.
I backed away from the curb, deciding a wakl would do me better than to be uneasy in that old woman's presence. She smirked, knowingly, showing two front teeth missing in her wide mouth.

"Of all the nights," I muttered, "Why tonight? Why couldn't the old bag just leave me alone? I've never even seen her before!" It was warm and dry this time of year, and I could feel sweat tracing down my spine in a slow trickle, almost as a lover's caress would feel. Like I knew of such things, I chastised myself. I couldnt even get the courage to kiss a man much less stammer my name before he was walking away shaking his head. I am a disaster when it comes to men. The old woman's words of temptation were almos laughable now in the dark and buzzing of porch lights.

It was a long walk, and yet, I was at peace with myself and the odd noises of the night. I always loved this time of day best, for it was the ending of a story, and yet a beginning of a new one. Dusk, as some would say, where the sky shows just a tinge of dark blue, and yet stars are starting to appear in the night sky. It was peaceful, beautiful even.

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SuSpence commented on Words of Foreboding (Part One)


This was terrific Britt. I loved the short story feel, but still poetry strewn throughout each line. This, especially the last stanza, for me was Reminiscent of Hemingway. But thats me Haha, and I read him a lot. But I enjoyed this a lot, on to part 2. ~Spence

Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

bjenkins’s Poems (16)

Title Comments
Title Comments
A Siren's Call 2
The Dark 2
Stupid Mistakes 2
Mother of Us All 0
Running Shoes 0
Words of Foreboding (Part Two) 1
Words of Foreboding (Part One) 1
Gleaming Pillars 5
The Barn 4
Admonishments 1
Crimson Kisses 3
Fae Folk 4
Reflections 2
The Whispers of Time 11
My Time Away... 2
Phantom 10