With wings like dirty sheets
she flutters into her attorney’s office,
flits about the boxy room,
bemoans the bright lights sure to burn
her to death should she linger too long.
Those West Virginia days,
lush and unforgiving,
bled into red-eyed nights.
How they terrified the neighbors,
scared the teens that used to make kissies
under the Silver Bridge.
“I’m just so tired,” she sputters.
“It’s got to stop,” she spits.
“It’s not worth it,” she stammers.
“What have we done?!” she screams.
For a moment then, she settles.
Poises high in a corner of the room,
wings folded, breath shallow,
alert for anything that moves.
Jason Preu 
Is she divorcing Mothman? I hear he’s a real jerk!
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Loved it so much, i just had to revisit it….. it’s so….quirky!
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thanks for stopping by and saying so! hope you find some other goodness around here to enjoy.
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will!
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Dude, one of your best. “Wings like dirty sheets”… KILLER LINE
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Thanks. Got a whole series of these I hope to get out late this year or early next.
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Cool, let us know! (Duh) if the series reads like this one, that will be addictive poetry 😉 keep it up.
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For sure and thanks.
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