Thursday, September 28, 2006

The Door Still Lets in Hallway

The last thing you did was slam the door so hard
it bounced back open
and I saw that splatter of blood
on the wall from the Friday murder—resembling
a Munch sky,
or the cod’s mouth as it lay in the bucket
gasping for ocean, unable to comprehend
the difference between one side of a split second and the other.

3 comments:

Aisha said...

Norway left its glum mark ...

the last line is a killer ...too?

Paula said...

Very strong visual; effective poem indeed.

H. W. Alexy said...

Well Aisha, I have done enough fishing not to worry about 'the catch', though, when I was looking for images in red, I did think of my most recent experiences. I like your pun on 'killer' :).

Paula, thank you. Doors and time are well-worn themes of mine, so it is difficult to be original with them at times. Always good to hear I've succeeded.

Helm.