The Phone Call

[Dark Muse]

The Phone Call

The shadows stretched
time tracked by their crawling
movement along the walls.

Encroaching nearer in a
foreboding cloud, a taloned
hand reached along the lampshade.

A woman waits isolated in
subtle hues of black and white,
eyes fixed, fingers clenched,
scarcely daring to draw a single breath.

Flickering daggers of light
cut through the heavy air
in the low murmur of passing
cars somewhere that seems so
far away outside.

Trapped by dread and the
whisperers like pins and needles
within her head, hands shaking,
she can't turn her gaze from the
conspicuous stain that appears
like blood.

Suddenly the silence shatters
into fragments like breaking glass
the harsh ring fills the air, angry,
demanding, refusing to be ignored
like a pounding in the mind.

Spider like fingers crawl out
grasping the cold hard receiver
set against her ear, the moment
anticipated.......

STATIC

[hillwalker]

Wow - this is like a moment captured from a 'Hitchcock' movie (one of his b+w ones, of course)
And that final, single word..... black as black can be, DM

[Dark Muse]

Wow - this is like a moment captured from a 'Hitchcock' movie (one of his b+w ones, of course)
And that final, single word..... black as black can be, DM

OMG! Yes! That is exzactly what I was going for. I wanted to try and capture the atmopshere of a Hitchcok film, and to try and allude to the Black and White quality.

[hillwalker]

So you nailed it, good for you.....

[Dark Muse]

LOL I swear no matter what anyone else might say about this poem nothing can be better than your comment and if everyone else abolustely hates it, I will still be satisifed just by what you said.