Silver – stanza 1.3

Courlain leapt, catching hold of another rope
Raised himself, hand over hand, struggling
On, forcing himself further on his climb to
Nowhere; when Malinov reached the rafter
Courlain had just flown from, he paused
Catching his breath as he sized up the jump
He heard Tasha call his name and turned
Losing his balance, he fell, “Go to her.”
Courlain halted his climb to witness the fall
Screamed “No!” and then he began to fall
Falling, falling, falling, continuing the chase
In an all-too-fatal race to the bottom
The last ten meters were hidden, thankfully
From my view, sparing me the horrific sight
But I was not spared the awful sound
An aural memory that will haunt me forever
I turned to Allison and Madame Tasha
Expecting to find them shocked, devastated
By the proximate and grisly death of two
Men they knew and even seemed to love
But they chatted on, old friends reunited
Even though Allison had seen Madame Tasha
Every day for months, when ambulances
Arrived and began to scatter the crowd
Madame Tasha took a hold of my arm
“Come along now, let’s go,” she said
I asked if we shouldn’t give a statement
To the police; “Don’t be silly,” she said
“They’d never believe us if we tried.”

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About Lord Malinov

Lord Malinov, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet
This entry was posted in books, fiction, literature, novels, personal, poetry, writing. Bookmark the permalink.

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