YULE-THOUGHTS IN KINGSPORT
Ann K. Schwader
Along these streets hung thick with fragrant boughs
I walk in dread, recalling elder rites
Our fathers made of evergreen and light
On strange shores mercifully forgotten now.
Each holiday well-wisher's face I scan
With nightmare apprehension . . . could this shell
Shaped cunningly in counterfeit of man
Conceal what no sane human tongue may tell?
Toward midnight, when the ancient church is lit
Wherein their festival was kept before,
I clutch at talismans and bar the door
Against ancestral memories that flit
In shadowshapes of madness through my head:
Things living still, which should have long been dead.
© 2006 Edward P. Berglund
"Yule-Thoughts in Kingsport": © 1992 by Ann K. Schwader All rights reserved. Reprinted from Eldritch Tales # 27.
Graphics © 1998-2006 Erebus Graphic Design. All rights reserved. Email to: James V. Kracht.
Created: December 26, 2006