The ghostly bead

A superluminal orb, like frightful ghosts interred, have met this bead halfway and lighting struck the hearth, for another better dance, keening deerish prance, the mute mother said strung about them were dolls which pearls know are afowl and created another cart of food pulled by oxen run-to-mill that pulled the bead to start.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2026

Poem

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Kendrick Avatar
July 30, 2026 at 1:32 PM
Creative work. Reminds me as a child how we took the corn to the mill to have it ground into corn meal for us. Thank you for sharing this one with us. Way to go. Sara K.
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