scene of a mothman's crime

shadowy figure eludes capture in remote areas

iron horseshoes grey and smudged with rust 
notched indented rectangular holes, perforated rims
shod long ago, horses gone
an' some oval hanging leather yokes for equestrian draft 
hanging with the tack of leather brown
on weathered roughened saw milled boards pegged with nails
make the wall what it is, adorn its roughened face
whose knot holed irregular breaks 
between true twelve inch planks of yesteryore 
allow discreet views to the outside sun-filled prairie world 
coupled with a chandeliered show 
of diffused light that enters shyly through the cracks 
from a noon day sun on the western wall of this montana barn

the light that slaps the edges of the brass, of the harness 
that wears the white of horses' spit an' perspiration dried, 
scratches the powdery floor, of fine dust that is the ground
that is whitish gray, like dirty flour strewn in soft mounds
where the dark an' musty debris does not prevail
where the slightest stir of air raises the tiniest of specks 
like fairy dust that rides upon the back, of the introverted light beams

the prints of bare feet scattered throughout an' leading to the hay loft 
with its severed pile beneath the rawhide leather lassoed ropes suspended,
that hang alongside the washboard sullen galvanized 
bear silent labored testimonies now retired,
that she once lived here 

the barn owl perches by day in a crevice of the rafters, of the loft
if the loft could talk perhaps it'd tell you of the act 
that took place beneath her nose on the hay pile below
ask not of the owl for it was on nocturnal business
in search of rodent prey when such act did violently occur

on a moonlit night in cold of february snow
under guise of shadow played 
with motley moon's light and black intermingled clouds
a lone figure resembling a man with glowing eyes of red
stealthily stalked a fair maiden while in her barn
at curry of her horses
it lifted her off the ground and flew off, up 
through the highest door of the loft 
an' dropped her from that height to dispose of her life
then plunging downward swooped her up again
and flew into the blinding wind and draft of laden snow

Reviews

[Paul]

Documentation
4/1/18
11:17 AM U.S. CST
"Scene of a Mothman's Crime by Ruselnex, a Fellow Writer's Café Author"
by PB Jacobs (www.writerscafe.org)

Hey, Ruselnex!

Kind of Ye Olde English, huh? I like how you are explaining things, and your illustration does have an awareness to comprehension friendliness to it, which makes for a decent read.

Yup, I see your allusions, and everything, including your sloober's. You might want to add something in your description to help your audience adjust their awareness and shift gear's to something that's not so written about, as the couch potato crowd will never see what's coming. It's a lazy mentalist thing, and that's a sticking point you might want to ponder.

Couch potatoe thoughts, couch potatoe life, and then, there's a few other things, such as a mental culture shock...

I see a conjunctive entanglement waiting to happen with some of your audience members, I did explain this a good, few reviews back. A good little prairie dog dig's...

You might also want to be a bit more vocal with your symbolism, as the barn owl might just be something to expand on. City people hang out in the country to feel like they are in the city, and country people hang out in the city to feel like they are more in the country, kind of in my opinion.

PB Jacobs