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Morgan B Merriweather

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Mud Season
by Morgan B Merriweather

Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Rated "G" by the Author.
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Recent poems by Morgan B Merriweather
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           >> View all 103

Tucked away in the dense woods,

off the melting road that steers the rutty miles

there is a small cottage that watches the fire flicker

as the blanket of the night is spread

and the shadows smooth out the creases into ash


heavier the night feels upon the solitude

as it plummets into deep depths,

with the stealth of its silence,

and the coal grey clouds swiftly glide

passing through the uncounted ages


the curled blood thinned toes don’t dare depart

from beneath a single spot of mere warmth,

as the numb talons for a hand grip the chilled bed sheets

dropping them on a cool nose,

damp breathes collecting


the ears broadcast a steady static

in the dark,

matters neither if the lids of the eyes are closed

nor, if there were sleep

in the wall come the scratches,


it stops,

the quietness is restrained

the breathe, the hollow static halted



then gradually zooming in closer

toward the frantic movement

are scattered scratches,

the breathe, the static


Outside is the white owl,  

perched on a trellis of dormant ivy,

with the last of the embers in his eyes;

he too hears what hides,

behind the walls



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Reviewed by Amor Sabor 4/2/2012
I love the quaint picturesque cottage in the dark woods and a quiet night set aside for a rodent in the wall betraying his location to the ever-patient owl.
Reviewed by Asa Seeley 3/18/2012
with the right atmosphere, the imagination can run wild. thanks for sharing.

Reviewed by Regis Auffray 3/18/2012
Such a captivating offering, Morgan. Well done! Thank you for sharing. Love and best wishes,

Reviewed by Christine Tsen 3/17/2012
Awesome ebb and flow in this original and chilling abstraction!
Love this!!!
Reviewed by Laurel Lamperd 3/16/2012
Begins almost like a fairy tale then broaches into the fear that many of us seem to have alone in the dark woods.
Powerful last stanza which seems to sum up what the poem is about.

he too hears what hides,
behind the walls


Reviewed by Amber Moonstone 3/15/2012
Hey Morgan, Nice one!!! sorta seems like Poe meets the Dark Crystal..
very eerie imaginative poetry, my friend..

Will call soon, I am in tech this week..(Beauty and the Beast)

Peace, love and light,
Reviewed by Mary Ann Biddinger 3/15/2012
The coal grey of the clouds to surreal imagery..well done Morgan
Lady Mary Ann
Reviewed by Richard King 3/15/2012
Well, you certainly got my attention! Lots of images, Nicely done.

Thanks Dick
Reviewed by Vivian Dawson 3/15/2012
Getting into our dark senses *Morgan*
You certainly succeeded with rich imagination!!!

Lady Vivian
Reviewed by jude forese 3/14/2012
excellent imagery and motif ... i really enjoyed reading this poem, Morgan ..
Reviewed by Axilea MU 3/14/2012
A piece of writing that triggered my imagination. The silence, the solitude and the mystery... and I like that "steady static", what it evokes and the way it sounds.

Reviewed by Rose Rideout 3/14/2012
Great writing Morgan.

Reviewed by Ronald Hull 3/14/2012
Vivid images here. I breathe damp breaths nightly under my covers to warm them. There is nothing more infuriating than a mouse chewing to get through a wall so they can make a place to live and fine food in the cold winter.

Reviewed by Jerry Bolton 3/14/2012
Wonderfully dark piece of writing. "in the wall come the scratches," perks our dark interest and the rest doesn't disappoint. The poem as a whole is gloomy and . . . er . . . dark.
Reviewed by Odin Roark 3/13/2012
Wonderful and arresting journey in darkness that ultimately sheds light of the fear that invades our most productive time of the day... or recharge, our quiet time to sort out the imponderable, the conundrums of conscious time. Yet... metaphorically, the walls, the owl, the "curled blood thinned toes" and "numb talons" implore our sleep or sleep to be... rest and see, hear and touch the truth. A very thoughtful piece of surreal imaging.

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