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28 October 2014

history is on display here (a morbid bit of poem)

History
is on display:
can you hear
the laughter?
Can you see
the fear?

When
will we 
eat again;
will the 
boys
get prettier
this year?

Children
lived
and died
here;
wind
crawled through
the chinked
log walls
and ate
their fragile skin.

Children
played
and worked
here;
they're echoes
in the
laughing
crying
stone.




This morbid bit of poetry was brought to you by the imaginary garden with real toads, thoughts of ghosts, and the following images (which I got from the aforementioned imaginary garden, so mentioning them is something of a double tap but whatevs).





3 comments:

  1. History on display and laughing makes my hair stand on end... Not so much because of the dead implication, but because I wouldn't stop wondering what she's laughing about.

    Powerful and uncanny!

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  2. I really like that. We visited a couple of museums last week, and one of them made me feel a bit like that.

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  3. "wind
    crawled through
    the chinked
    log walls
    and ate
    their fragile skin."

    I have a feeling this isn't far from the truth in many instances! Thanks for playing.

    ReplyDelete