Smoke rises from a broad stout chimney
set in a scorched tiled roof
pushing past tall grasses
and gone to seed poppies
I find a large casement and
look through to see a small pantry
lined with deep wooden shelves
each full of meat joints blown with flies
From a smaller dirty window I see
a mound of glittering coins
dotted with golden torcs and platters
a clue to danger
Time to run!
Copyright © 2021 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Run indeed!!
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Still running……….
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A lovely peep inside, so wonderfully furnished and then the finale of danger to the voyeur
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Thanks Laura.
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Yep, time to run like Forrest Gump out of that house. Don’t want to see what goes on in there for sure! Very well written.
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Here be dragons…., ;)
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You made the house feel terrifyingly real … great write.
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Thank you
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Oh yeah, clear. Graphic. Cinematic.
Especially awestruck by the (apparently many) fly-buzzed meat joints!
I’m not sure, after that sight, I’d have hung around long enough to seek out (nor look through!) any other windows.
It doesn’t much matter to me WHO lives there…I’m g-o-n-e!!!
Devil takes the hindmost, eh?
This is marvelously told, Kim!! Thanks.
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As they say, in bear country, travel with a slower “friend “……. 😉
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Stepped right into a mystery! Great descriptions. 🙂
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Thanks!
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Oh dear, anyone who can live amongst the fly-blown meat has got to be one dangerous hombre. Maybe case the joint from a distance and see if anyone even lives there anymore. Worth a shot! You brought the adventure up close and personal with your details.
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Dragons don’t eat fresh meat….,, 😉
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Oh my gosh, that flew right over my head :)
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;)
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Ooooh, a mystery poem, more please.
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😊
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Ooh this is fantastic! I so enjoyed the twist at the end :D
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