Saturday, April 28, 2012

Poem of the Day #1: "Cold Eyes"

The "Poem of the Day" is a new feature that will appear, you guessed it, daily.  All are original works and may be accompanied by short essays or random thoughts about either the poem itself or the nature of poetry.  This one isn't, because you get this instead.  Whoohoo.  Aren't you excited?  I know I am.

And the men--
All shrouded grey--
Did through the mist appear.
And though the fog hangs heavy there
Their forms seemed all too clear—
The memory of faces
Shrouded cold
And those grim visaged eyes
Strike terror
In my bones
Their frozen laugh still makes me cry.
Though many years have passed since
Last I saw that host
I shall, I fear, never forget
The time I saw those
Wicked ghosts.

©2003 by Benjamin Snyder

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