Grace of the River Graves

Photo by Khoa Võ from Pexels

She wears long capes

In order to fit in

To never ending funeral caskets

A tall and crooked vampire beast

Something from locked boxes

And collapsible piano keys

A song

For the swallowed and drowned

For the time being

She owns this riverbank

As

Stories and tales of spirits

And psychics are so far

And thin

She should be home

Watching a. television soap

Whilst shoving takeaway food in her cheeks

But instead

She remains dedicated

Tied to the reflection of old times

And the horrors of traumas

That run deep in the cracks

Of the man made shore

--

--

--

A poet that loves to express herself through pretty words and the occasional spooky tale 🌲☁️

Love podcasts or audiobooks? Learn on the go with our new app.

Recommended from Medium

on traditional poetry

I traced the line of the horizon, thin and fine

walk by faith — December 14th

When the Dow joneses

An open heart is fragile

The Power Of Love (Part 2)

Paperwork in the snow, and we’re all dust

Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store
Erika Fischer-Laine

Erika Fischer-Laine

A poet that loves to express herself through pretty words and the occasional spooky tale 🌲☁️

More from Medium

The Lake- When Still Waters Run Deep

Midnight Rain

Part 3: The Appalling

"Sugar Tax" by Dan7oo7 Life will block mystery thoughts Thugs with a heart clock with an alarm Aim…