Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Scout and Jem, That Night

That eve of the dead, the
white wind keened a
moaning song of
release, of words not
spoken before, of
guilty yet not.
Innocent was
not possible, not
then, not then.

A white demon, carried
on the white wind, the
white wind of white
shadows,
descended upon two
children, two young, who
did not know, who
did not understand
the meaning, but
simply were.

A white demon not
of their making but
part of their sin,
originally,
descended to seek its
retribution, its vengeance, the
annihilation of what was to come,
a demon stopped only by
the mute angel
named Boo.

For the Random Act of Poetry at the High Calling Blogs, we were asked to choose a character from a book – any kind of book – and write a poem to, from or just about that character. For details on the character(s) I selected, visit here.

8 comments:

Stephanie Wetzel said...

I saw ur tweet about this poem. With my love of all things To Kill a Mockingbird, AND your poetry, I knew I'd come on over.

Loved it. Thanks for great imagery.

L.L. Barkat said...

This is chilling! But I loved it.

Maureen said...

Yes, as LL says, chilling. It's wonderful. Those last three lines conjure such a visual image.

David Rupert said...

I thought it was "Me and You and a Dog named Boo?"

Anyway...good poem!

S. Etole said...

thinking on this ...

Megan Willome said...

I like how you have Boo (a ghostly name if there ever was one) in contrast to the evil/whiteness. Very Chinese-opera-ish of you.

One of the best books of all time!

tamarahillmurphy.com said...

"A white demon not of their making but part of their sing, originally,..."

thank you.

Anonymous said...

just did some reading on harper lee. interesting how her life was similar to her book. also interesting to read about her and her friend since childhood, truman steckfus.