The darkroom smells of vinegar
and silver-salted secrets.
The telephone rings and makes
the stairwell echo—but you
let the voicemail get it.
It’s just the doctor calling back with
news you don’t want.
Every frame on this roll of film
turns into a skull.
--for Poefusion
Collection available! Knocking from Inside
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Negatives
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5 comments:
the doctor's always seem to have bad news for everyone. and, when it involves the head it can be scarier than almost anything else. another great poem. have a nice day, tiel.
'silver-salted secrets' - a great and telling phrase!
Thanks for sharing this. I, too, love the phrase "silver-salted secrets"
I like how this poem uses all the senses. I could hear the loud ring and smell the vinegar. This was a difficult set of words this week and I take my hat off to you.
another great one tiel, best one for me... telephone rings and makes the stairwell echo...
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