The Waiting Room in Purgatory
Chair pads of crushed red velvet,
singed;
stained by unknown liquids
over
countless centuries.
Ornate, carved wood backs darkened
with
age, gleaming from layers
of wax,
gouged by nails and claws
and
teeth
and
desperation.
The air is thick
with fetid breath,
and
smoke
and
dire need.
For eons, my tired eyes
have
traced, ev’ry thread; ev’ry
hole and
stain on the moth-eaten
tapestry that reads:
Neither here nor there.
© Suzanne Reynolds-Alpert, 2014
The backstory: I wrote this back in 2002. We’d just moved into a new house, and the kitchen window faced out into our backyard ending in the edge of woods (unbuildable wetlands; we still live in that house and the woods are still there.) It was a late Autumn afternoon, and I stared at the woods, these words and images came to me…
The Woods Spoke to Me
I should have been doing laundry,
but the Woods spoke to me thus–
Come…
Feel the dry, sad leaves
crinkle under your feet.
See if you can catch
the sigh they make,
Now that their lives are ending.
Resolute that they will rejoin the Mother
in a warm embrace.
Come, the Woods said, come…
Follow the flickering lights
as they dart through the branches.
The Sun does not penetrate here.
Come…
You are new to this place.
Don’t your fingers ache
to touch these prickly bushes?
To discover the wild berries
that grow here?
Come…
Look how I’ve left myself
exposed for you.
Dropping the leaves,
letting dead branches fall.
Sucking back the vines and ferns
into myself.
Coyote will not harm you–
Fox is shy.
Squirrel will show you the way.
See him dancing for you
at the edge of the yard?
The brothers and sisters of the Woods
heed my commands.
Come…
Follow the broken light
into the shadows,
where your footing is unsteady.
Breathe in the crisp air,
the dank earth,
Let it nourish you.
Squint your eyes,
and you will see…
Me, the Lord of the Woods
in all my majesty.
Darting through the costumes
of the leaves–
Waiting for you.
Join me in this place
you know is home.
For you are kindred…
I should have been tending to the house.
But the Woods spoke to me.
Oh! The Woods spoke!
~ © Suzanne Reynolds-Alpert
Please do not reproduce or republish without attribution and/or my consent.
I wanted to give a brief update on some recent work I’ve had accepted.
My poem “That Witch We Dread” will be part of the New England Horror Writers Upcoming Anthology, Wicked Witches. The anthology release date is (when else?) on October 31, 2016.
I’ve just signed the contact for my horror short story, Traitorous, Lying, Little Star, to be reprinted by Digital Fiction Publishing. I don’t have the ETA on that yet.
In writing news… I’m STILL revising my horror/scifi novelette, Vegetables, and I have a cat-themed short story in progress for an anthology by Pole to Pole Publishing.
