A pocket full of field mice

[Erthona]

Prose poetry, nice cadence.


Mother was too pale
to cough black, so Father
became the house; (Maybe a full stop here then, "He had the face..." as it tends to run on a bit.)
a face of weathered granite
melded with stones, kept crooked
by the constant wind raging
off the moors.

I look to the fields and know
the scarecrow sees me,
he's been whispering.
When the weathervane turns,  (might consider "wind vane" as it seems the movement of the wind is the primary conductor of change)
his snakes hiss across the crops.
I don’t want to listen anymore
but the ground connects us.

I watch the walls at night, my back
to the flames, creatures come to dance
behind me. He told me not to turn   ("He" who?)
so I watch a life of shadows flying
with the sun and rain, straining
to see the subtleties. (Is it the sun and rain that are straining to see the subtleties?   Plus "subtleties is not generally used in this way as it generally points to another noun, such as "the subtleties of the mind." Even though a noun, it usually does not stand by itself. In this case it begs the question "subtleties of what?")

He's moving closer to the house,
I call the children in from the washing line
they've been out all day, flapping like larks
on the breeze. I hold them to my cheek,
smell their folded hair.  (Very nice and spooky image)

He's outside the window now. I haven’t moved
for days. The house growls as the wind changes
direction. He's sitting at my table, insects sprawl
from his outstretched hands.  (A bit of horror cliche, but it seems to work anyway)

It only takes a touch;

I’m in the top field listening for two travelers (The speaker was in the house with the scarecrow and all of a sudden she is teleported to the top fields where the scarecrow is not and giving guide information???? It was a good story up 'til this point. Breaking the 4th wall would be better than this ending and I am certainly not recommending that.)
as they cross the moors; one is very weak
so I tell him he wont make the journey.
I move a little closer, knowing he can hear me.(is this suppose to be "can't hear me"?)

A fun read

Best,

dale