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the old wooden shed

by Peter Humphreys

what a fool I am
forgetting the house keys
just like that
I wonder
will she be back tonight
after that row we had
who knows
the mobile's flat
and all I have
for shelter is
the old wooden shed
not locked
thank goodness
I sit
hunched
inside
on the garden chair
fumbling for matches
to light the lantern
damn it
they are all damp
at last it lights
with the last one
this gives some heat
but the cold
and the damp
start to grow along my spine
slowly
sinuously
insidiously
from disk to disk
I bolt the door
from the inside
still it rattles
old blades
saws
chisels
choppers
screwdrivers
chitter
chatter
as the wind
under the eaves
meets the draught
from the floor
my feet freeze
it's only the end
of October
the gas runs out
no moon
no light
the street lamp is shrouded
by autumn leaves
yet to fall
damnation
when will she be back
is she doing this on purpose
something drops on the roof
I'm sure it did
the spiders curl into
tiny tiny balls
the mice are long since gone
behind that old webbed chest
my grandad's tools
keep rattling
along the wall
in and out
the draught
suck and blows
I can't be afraid
a grown man
reduced
to the child within

the window
shatters

10/04/2010

Posted on 10/04/2010
Copyright © 2021 Peter Humphreys

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 10/04/10 at 05:33 PM

Oh, this is just a masterpiece of scary, and scene setting, and you drew me into your shed and I am locked in with you and I don't like spiders I can't see nor rattling tools about my head. Yikes!!!! This better be going in the Chilling Creepy Competition, that's all I have to say(screech!)

Posted by George Hoerner on 10/05/10 at 12:52 PM

And a wonderful Halloween write Peter!

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