Shhh

There’s a stain in the silence,

Deep and purple like the little

Drip of wine forgotten, sleeping

At the bottom of the goblet.

 

There’s a man crouching

By the cooling fireplace,

Crouching like a coyote

Before the shepherd comes.

 

There’s a hand on the carpet,

Open like a magnolia underneath

The bloated clouds, in the middle

Of receiving, simply in the middle.

 

There’s an echo in the stain,

Hollow and deadly sonorous

Like an empty well, but secret

Like the hole he tucked her body in.

Author's Note

Image from http://renainnocenti.deviantart.com/art/Sugar-Magnolia-123077839

Reviews

[shel]

well, i think i know what you've been listening to for at least 2 poems, possibly 3, haha. drop of wine sleeping at the bottom of the goblet...very nice. you know, i read thru everything weeks ago, just coming back to it now...somehow i failed to make a few connections with this one. i think it was one of those 'my brain is fried' nights & i coulnd't process a thing. it happens a lot. anyway...the ending took me by surprise, but now the hand open like a magnolia 'in the middle of receiving' is...disturbing. i can’t find anything to nitpick about, lol…there’s a white thread through this, which is interesting. it’s subtle…the magnolia, the clouds, the sheep. but you didn’t come out and say sheep, thank goodness. yeah…magnolias can be other colors, but i think white is what comes to mind first. so all of these things provide a visual surface for the stain to sink into.

[Juliet]

The last line brought it together perfectly.

[J.P. Bristow]

Dark and ominous......kinda creepy----but like good film noir.

well done.