We walk in winterbare sunbright woods
a winding path that skirts fallen trees
sprawling bramble thickets
and forms its own linear ponds
where frogs protest our passage
I hear a clinking
high pitched, sharp, intermittent
and somewhere behind
Nothing in our gear is metallic and loose
I hear the noise, but he doesn’t
when I stop to listen, he is confused
stumbles into me
our path follows a millennium-old ditch
and I begin to suspect the noise comes from there
but the ditch contains only brown beech leaves
When we stop, the clinks stop
When we walk once more
clink clink clink after a small wait
Sun shafts through clawing branches
strange rustles lurk under leafdrifts
our pleasant walk reforms
mutates
into else and other
The clinks are always there
as long as we are beside the ditch
always
something follows
Copyright © 2022 Kim Whysall-Hammond
A real-life ghost story, shared for the open link weeked at Earthweal.
Nicely creepy
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It was a creepy sound!
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Something wild or ghostly or both follows down the ancient furrow!
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That’s what it seemed like!
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A start to a ghost story…wonder how it will end?
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In real life, we left the ditch behind, and the sound faded. Something didn’t want to leave the old ditch in the woods……
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clinky! Goooooo-oooood!
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:)
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That would be unnerving. My first thought was the chains of Old Bob Marley. Makes you wonder what tragedy left behind those sounds.
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Indeed…..
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How strange. I wonder if it is some strange echoing of your footsteps because of the way the ditch is constructed. Maybe there’s some metal that vibrates or something.
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It was probably something in our gear, but we never worked out what…..
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I love the way the first stanza paints such a clear, beautiful picture…..the clinking is very eerie. This reminds me of a true story a friend of mine wrote about how she and her husband were in the wilderness, carrying backpacks……..when she heard a strange humming – they began to look everywhere trying to find the source, pondering whether it may be from extraterrestrials….when she suddenly realized the humming was coming from his pack – it was his electric toothbrush. LOL.
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😀
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So beautiful poem dear poet. A wonderful journey in your words.
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Thanks John!
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