By Craig Collins
In the depths below
I hear a faint sound
This noise sends a chill
Up and down my spine
I stand quietly
The sound starts to fade
I take a deep breathe
The sound starts to race
I am scared to no end
Let out a loud scream
The sound gets louder
Screaming seems pointless
Since the noise strengthens
As I frantically
search the area here
There is nothing there
But me and the air
Wait what is this here
As I lean my ear
To the floor I hear
Thump Thump Thump Thump Thump
It sounds closer now
I continue to
Look up and around
Is it a monster
That I hear coming
Or maybe it's mom
I look up and see
That scary noise is
None other than ME
“This is an old poem that I wrote for some preschool kids long ago.”
* * * * * * * * * *
“Solo Violinist”
By Jennifer Ruth Jackson
Plays a violin by sawing it
Straining muscles to break strings
Crack case, a compromised egg
Dripping gooey notes
Fingers hold shell together as
Symphony hinges on
Melody’s golden center
Liquid labor raw and runny
Batters audience, sticky anticipated
Crescendo tosses them
Collectively over sound-chewed
Cliffs, collecting them at the
End of a silent storm.
[Jennifer Ruth Jackson also submitted a poem for April 6.]
