a tsunami
warning sign
on the shore...
what happens to those
who cannot run away
--
Hangman’s Hill
I drop the handbrake and wait. Slowly my car begins to roll uphill towards the hanging tree. So the legend is true; the hangman’s ghost is dragging me to eternity. I glance at the rope on the rear seat, moonlight glinting off its grain, throwing out a surfeit of shadows. Reaching the hanging tree, bent double and alone on the hillside, I pull on the brake. On closer inspection, the distant lights of city skyscrapers don’t seem to touch the bark of this isolated hawthorn. My last thought is of a small boy, cocooned in childhood, playing cricket on the beach until the evening comes.
just an illusion
the hill’s dark secret
the hill’s dark secret
wind chimes...
someone else’s tragedy
hangs from a yew
Dr. Tim Gardiner is an ecologist, editor, essayist, poet, and children’s author from Manningtree in Essex, UK. He has been widely published in journals and anthologies. He is a former co-editor of the tanka prose section of Haibun Today and now edits a poetry column for the punk fanzine Suspect Device.
"a tsunami," "Hangman's Hill," and "wind chimes," copyright 2022 Tim Gardiner
No comments:
Post a Comment