Long Walk Home
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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.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden | Year Posted 2020
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