Lucy

I find the red light
On a corner of a field of stone.
Lucy something – was she just thirteen?
Or maybe that century was a carved eighteen?
I ponder what she lived in stories I will never know.
Dropped by the hands of ghosts and demons,
Choking on Forever’s bread crumbs
Into always another tomorrow.

darkdeathlostmysteryfree verse

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Robert Lindley

September 20, 2020 at 5:38 PM

I visited our mother's grave yesterday. Before I left I checked out the other grave stones there. Many are of those passed away since I left my hometown--older people. Some are even before my father's time. Some quotes are exceptional. Your poem speaks of life's mysteries and riddles. And death's final touch. Very well done my friend ....

Rob Carmack

September 21, 2020 at 6:48 PM

TY Robert.

Skat A

June 12, 2015 at 1:07 AM

Rob, Congratulations on having your poem featured this week. SKAT love

Daver Austin

June 9, 2015 at 11:00 AM

Ah yes, the mystic marble orchard. The great violinist, Paganini, used to play in the graveyard for the dead. Your speculation is universal. Good stuff. congrats on the selection. daver

Andrea Dietrich

May 4, 2015 at 4:32 PM

hey, thinking of how you like to be so cryptic, is this by chance another allusion to LSD, Lucy in the sky with diamonds or something??

Rob Carmack

May 5, 2015 at 12:29 AM

No, I was just sitting at a red light one day by a cemetary. The Lucy in the sky with diamonds is a unique take on though. I like it.

Richard Lamoureux

April 14, 2015 at 8:15 AM

Somehow this left me with chills. There is a fairy tale darkness to this piece Rob, I like it!

Cyndi Macmillan

April 13, 2015 at 10:32 PM

Red light... an interesting way to start this. Find, like you were looking ... it stopped you in your tracks. I get that sensation. Now, if you'd like, you can check this out http://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/waiter_there_is_a_puck_in_my_soup_662934 Close or no cigar... lol....