“Nothing stays buried for long”, he said
“Nature abhors secrets.”
The old man made his intentions clear
Accountability would not be borne
On his crooked, arthritic back
On those slouched, uneven shoulders.
I gave a nod, and with a murderer’s rage
I bit the spade tip through the dense peat
And planted the seed, staining the soil
With avarice and malice
The tell-tale stench, reeking, sneaking
From the roll of plastic, the parcel in question.
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Author:
Fränz Müller (
Offline) - Published: December 31st, 2025 22:18
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 6
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett
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Comments1
It is the pairing of opposites in this poem that gives it its unexpected contrasts and appeal. It is gritty and dark with vast changes in emotion and meaning in the mind taking one on an emotional journey and smacks of the old Russian style of Dostoyevsky, Tolstoy, Turgenev and carries that same darkness. It is in its mystery where the object is not revealed that the real interest lies and just like a magician you never reveal your tricks maintaining the aura where the mistake of a reveal would spoil the whole thing. A lovely piece of art that leave me covetous. A fave
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