Beneath The Atchafalaya Moon

Hoping shadows were blind

beneath the Atchafalaya moon

I knelt among the Cyprus knees

letting their prayers into my bones.

Fear had a hunger for my flesh

and I could feel it raking

its raspy tongue along my arms

seeking a weak vein it could drink from.

Above my head the night priest

speaks my name through the moss

letting me know he wasn’t going

to leave until I surrendered my amen.

Feeling the swamp air reach

for my lungs I hold my breath

to keep my soul light from

being snuffed by its moldy fingers.

I could hear mama speaking in my thoughts,

Twila, the devil doesn’t like you knowing his secrets.

You’re the bridge he’s determined to set a match to,

so be strong when you smell his sulfur.

The thing about being brave is you can’t study

for the testing. There’s a whole lot of what you should do

pumped into words, but it’s a different matter

when you feel the burning, but can’t find the flames.

 ©Susie Clevenger 2014

 This is another poem about my fictitious character Twila.  The first one is Dark Hymns Of The Live Oak

 Kerry at Real Toads had us writing Vignettes. 

Real Toads Friday Challenge Vignette