Twenty-Four Years Later

by Shawn Allen

Laura lays over this town, these woods; a shroud.
The river still remembers her weight.
Among the trees, the grove still whispers her name,
and the dark twin howls.
The little man dances and the red curtains part.
A door remains open.
The great blades still turn and shred.
The river always falls, like angels
onto the rocks below.
Douglas firs sway, filled with the screams of owls.
A very tall man speaks. The ring is at his feet.
The door begins to move.
The pageant is over, the queen has moved on.
Many things are back in style,
and the grinning beast prowls. Wow.
With arms bent back, Laura holds this place
locked in her heart. The diary lies open.
The door swings wide…

 

One more year before he sees her again.
02-27-2014
(c) Shawn D. Allen.

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