There were demons
They are always legion, because a man can fend off
one or two, but three thousand (plus cavalry) are more
than anyone can manage. Of course he thought
he was alone, because who can smell
fresh-baked cookies for all that sulfur, or feel
the snuffle of a wet nose on numbed skin, or taste
the grace of meatloaf with a mouth full of bile? Who can hear
a favorite song playing through infernal static, or see
the porch light left on beyond a wall of flames?
So he found his own way out, the lone way, and left us
stunned by the echoes of his going.
5 thoughts on "There were demons"
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.
“the grace of meatloaf”–what a great pairing
Thank you for this poem. It’s beautiful.
stunned by the echoes of his going.”
The ending though! 🙂
What a description of dispair.
Perhaps in the echoes of his going he left a note?
I’m drawn to the “buffeted” feeling of the contrasts…this is one I could read over and over, and appreciate it more each time.