Everywhere a Whistle Blows
Everywhere a whistle blows
Seemingly from nowhere
And I stop to look around
Fearing I’m breathing in cruel air
I met her in the shrine garden
She took her oath in silence
She saw the eyes of God
The litany left her blinded
In the wold of her shadow she hides
7 years she had no eyes
No reverie to hold herself against her wise
Just empty sockets, no tears to cry
She had an aspen stowed in her hair
She looked like banshee, her gown waved by the ware
She couldn't see me but she knew I was there
She heard me whistling “Marche Militaire”
In the greenwood she collapsed into me
You could say, She hung by the trees
She said she was being haunted
By a spirit but she knew not from where
The spirit spake to her
But only said of her blank stare
The voice whispered harmony’s
Songs of the dead
Thought it was her father
Who didn't make heaven
He was a hermit, who drank and relaxed
Never took the lord to prayer, until on his death bed
She said the man repented and lamented
But could never redress his sins
The mighty hand of God pointed for his lack of common sense
She said her father’s impertinence
Led to his dead end
But one has to cast the shadow of doubt
What really happened then
Everywhere a whistle blows
But it’s too dark to see from where
Take hand so cold, you’ll know it’s I
Except I was never there
Copyright © James Black | Year Posted 2016
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