The other one

All night she moved along the brim of sleep,
Like a stone in a wheat field, the ground was hard.
Moon, shadows, crows that withering sky.
Her bed wore the stain of darkness,
The light wormed back into her mother’s womb.
Small as a broken doll in a dress of innocence,
She dreamed how imperfect she was, and she was.

Against the bare, whitewashed walls, her room
Cramped in a poorhouse, she heard siblings crowd
In a starving for sleep; footsteps multiplying into
The dream chamber, bodies aching for a slumber.
The statued grain like pillars, her twelve slow steps
Towards a windowed figure, heavy as a ghost;
Six feet to a grave, a shovel for the dirt—

Her mother in black, poised in some old tragedy,
Read from the purgatory book; like a good parent,
She swallowed in the darkness. Embraced the
One who never did, flesh and some bone. It dogged
Her, sleepless and envious. The moon drips red.

Copyright © 04/18/2019 lance sheridan®

The other one

46 comments on “The other one

  1. blindzanygirl says:

    This poem gripped me. It is i credible

  2. A incredibly beautiful poem Lance, there is no limit to your creativity and gift of words.

  3. So often your poetry moves me, I get drawn in and know that every line will offer something rich in image or feeling. This poem was one of these – read and reread, savour.

    All night she moved along the brim of sleep,
Like a stone in a wheat field

    What an opening. Bravo.

  4. ssfrerking says:

    So bleak and haunting, like a half-formed nightmare that turns out to be real.

  5. lampmagician says:

    strong words with wings, that’s poetry 🙂 great.

  6. mylilplace says:

    I love every story that you have crafted, each like a movie reel inside my head. This one is dark, beautiful and I can tell you…will linger for a while in my mind.

  7. Chiru says:

    Strong words used..

  8. The moon is a good theme…almost can see your shine when I read your poem. 🌔🌕🌛🌙

  9. Tamara Nika says:

    This could be made into a movie!

  10. Beautifully written 😃💕

  11. madmegsblog says:

    I think this is my favourite poem of yours so far. The words shatter everything. Poetry is hard. Good poetry that is; not the Twitter haikus we see in our feeds! And yours is beyond anything I’ve read in years! Love it.

  12. Devon Brock says:


    I see a mother grieving by the bed a sick child, soon to pass. I see a mother hoping beyond hope that it was her in the bed withering, rather than her daughter. A beautiful poem on a painful theme.


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