| William Henshaw |
The Eyes of Harvestread by william henshaw You think we come to haunt, like crawling hands or sucking deformities at night. We come at any time, formless except for eyes, silent, invisible at will. You know us, do you not? We are subtle, fleeting movements in the periphery of your vision, watching at the computer desk or on a crowded street. We seek the keen observer, the voracious wisdom hunter. When we find a fit the noose is cast. A blurring movement beside your eye seduces you to turn and find us gone, inexorably dancing with you, macabre, until we’re satisfied. Slowly, you sense your eyes are not at fault. We are real. We are here. The awful why invades your mind. Veins swell, brows bristle, neck hairs worm. Thumping heartbeats in the useless time of waiting, the strobe-lit undead of adrenalin eruptions smother you. The consuming need for knowledge conquers fear. You twist a final time, and we let our eyes appear. You look, a drop-jawed look for just the instant it takes to suck you through the portals of our eyes. Now exquisitely one of us, you’re happy that we came to harvest. The ranks of the gods ever need filling. ![]() © James Williams Cobbler, Killer , Caitlin Loveread by william henshaw Come for me, my Caitlin love, cross the stones in Devon Creek, flow the gate on Bollan Hill and let me kiss your bonnie cheek. For I must leave tomorrow noon to slide the rail from Devonshire; then climb the stones to Thomas’ and mash the bugs before they sire. In glove and mask and airless rooms I hunt the devil’s bloody foals slipping the syrup into their cells that sizzles them up like burning coals. If I would be a cobbler skilled, a thousand year old artifact, and not a killer of T-cell clones, my soul, as now, would still be tacked to Caitlin. Come for me, my love cross the stones in Devon Creek, flow the gate on Bollan Hill and let me kiss your bonnie cheek. William Henshaw (Pinehurst, NC
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) is a graduate of
University of Maryland Dental School. Now retired, he does musical
composition, poetry, computer presentations, racquetball and fine dining with his wife, Judy. His constant companion
is a sheltie, Reba. |
