Long Walk Home

Poet's Notes

(Show)

Become a Premium Member and post notes and photos about your poem like Gregory Richard Barden.

Image result for scarecrow moon

like cataracts on a grey old dog a light fog lay over the low, amber moon a stiff breeze blowing but next to the ground only so the layer of fog stayed put above eerily ... hauntingly I had walked the dirt road for miles flat farmland stretching into the night only one other barn had I seen in the last hours crumbling into the October grasses like salt into the sea my car had broken down but the weather being decent and only a few miles from destination I had decided to walk it, but was getting weary it came from behind, the voice at first I thought I'd dreamed it, but ... "I'm hungry" it whispered clear as a fog horn despite the wind I spun quickly, in reflex for there had been nothing but corn stalks for miles I looked - nothing there ... just corn and the road fading into the darkness I turned back around and continued my walk "I'm hungry", again whispered, yet unmistakable I spun back, studying - just dead corn forever and ... a scarecrow, between me and the moon, oddly it wasn't there before, I thought, but I must have just missed it in my own world walking ... thinking of home it was an odd scarecrow, arms dangling in inhuman ways pointed hat like a witch face shielded in darkness legs hanging backward and ... did it MOVE?? that surely was my tired eyes, longing for sleep better get going, thought I, so I started walking again "I'm hungry!", again the ethereal but deadly clear voice as though right beside me I spun to it again, and nothing ... then back to the moon and the scarecrow, only ... the scarecrow ... was GONE ... just the four-by-four stake where it used to hang, limbs akimbo I picked up my pace, and after a while started to forget it tired and weary, I just needed sleep, and passed it off as fatigue thinking then of the warm hearth and bed awaiting me how long it had been since I'd been home how achy I was, how weary and hungry and ... "I'm hungry!!" that time it was in my ear and a growl ... an evil, gut-tearing, hideous growl ... I spun again ... just in time to see the black, empty face and the white, pointed, gnashing ... teeth.

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

Andrea Dietrich

Date: 3/8/2020 1:13:00 PM

ooooh, very STephen King- like, Greg!!! What inspired this one? It was not a contest here, was it? I knew where this one was going but I enjoyed the ride!!

Eileen Manassian

Date: 3/8/2020 9:09:00 AM

Yikes!!! Spooky! You spun that story well. Too well! ;) Thanks for the visit to my work.

John Watt

Date: 3/6/2020 1:47:00 PM

Ooh, a campfire horror story on Soup! Delicious! Well written in its anticipation and growing fright... the scarecrow coming and going and speaking - it gives me chills! Great write, Greg as always ~ John

Gregory Richard Barden
Date: 3/8/2020 7:04:00 AM

Thank you so very much, John, I greatly appreciate the kind words, my friend - it means a lot. 33 hits and only one comment, this is the way things are going for me lately ... very discouraging, but that's life, right? I work very hard to create high quality writing, hoping that when I get these really busy times that folks will keep coming by and commenting if the quality is worthwhile, but that's not what it's about. Much appreciated, Bud.