Gossamer Weave, a poem by Linda Marie Hilton at Spillwords.com
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Gossamer Weave

Gossamer Weave

written by: Linda Marie Hilton


This skeleton of a road
Wash-boarded thing to go bump in the night
Concrete crumbled frost heaved peaks
Vents for the dead to rise as vapors
Corroded guard rails fight the tremble
To which to a deep ravine will tumble
To hang caught like prison chains
On rocks and poor trees
Whose bare limbs against black sky
A shattered mirror of a lace
Masks a truly terrifying face
Hidden in the walls of a ghost town
On the road’s nether side.
Upside green pastures’ verdure
Lures us on and onwards
Samhain is the road on its side
Gossamer thin
Touch it wrong and it’ll be gone
Pandora’s box ‘ll launch over green pastures
Dead or alive, no one is sure
Graves have spilled forth
Parties have lost their mirth
Just what is a life worth:
A journey fraught with danger
Each step unpaid on a road unpaved
Will frost heaved peaks suck us in?
Where greener pastures are forbidden?
But since time marches and marches us along
We must just with trepidation continue
And with each day a new venue
Not quite yesterday foreshadowing tomorrow
Our flesh and blood streams as in a flood
Fending off that inevitable day
When we must join the mud.



This was inspired by a poem by Jim Bellamy entitled “This Scarecrow Road

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