Following the Guide
Between the shaded brook and you, outside the frame, longing for everlasting sleep, he waits, holding his oars brightened by death’s supernal gold above the kaleidoscopic forest mirrored in tiny rings spreading on the current that trickles with a softened hum and lures your soul closer toward him, away from a disease that spares no pain, knows no limits of malice. Across his flannel shirt his suspenders’ dark belts dissolve into an enduring brilliance. He turns his bearded face under the broad-brimmed hat and beckons you to follow him. “Why pause?” The prow of his canoe points toward merciful rest, where the river bends into darkness, eternal. Intense, yet tranquilly, he beckons and fixes his eyes on yours while he glides past lilies swaying in the soft breeze that channels your world and his, and that will serve you now your last breath. One step inside the frame -- it’s all you had to take. Once there, the sweep of the current holds you, numbs you with its cold grace while the swirling brown leaves falling from Adirondack trees softens the bank by the bare oak fallen into the stream. Bodiless and pain-free you drift, reach branches outstretched like helping hands, grasp them, and pull yourself with mercy through a dying breath, dreamless. Gregory Lucas Gregory Lucas (Hilton Head Island, South Carolina) writes fiction and poetry. His short stories and poems have appeared in or are forthcoming in many magazines such as The Lyric, Scarlet Leaf, Neologism, Bewildering Stories, The Horror Zine, and Peeking Cat Poetry Magazine.
1 Comment
7/2/2024 07:29:16 pm
Terrific piece. Get in touch. I curate the Hilton Head Poetry Trail.
Reply
Your comment will be posted after it is approved.
Leave a Reply. |
The Ekphrastic Review
COOKIES/PRIVACY
This site uses cookies to deliver your best navigation experience this time and next. Continuing here means you consent to cookies. Thank you. Join us on Facebook:
November 2024
|