after 2

Walking home alone after last call
a rising moon feathers petals
across the alley’s pits and peaks.
Lost and found glimpses flash muted night hues,
as clouds span Luna’s vast and shining face.

A powdered ghost shimmers, a sprawled victim,
outlined in chalk by GFPD staff long after
life’s last breath.
I stop to gawk at its empty space,
and try to unlock its stories
slammed into a silhouetted still-life ending,
written in stone.

Emptiness tickles night’s deep void,
running her fingers down
the length of my spine

Brenda Warren 2013.

Note: This is not autobiographical. I’m far too old to be out until last call. 😉

Visit The Sunday Whirl.


11 thoughts on “after 2

  1. Yes that last line leaves me with chills can it become that we may just become a chalk outline..nothing more than a moment passed..easily erased..but then.. after..perhaps..there is more..


  2. Watching so many CSI shows one does wonder what happens to those chalk lines.
    Written into new fiction, everyone…and then with rain and wind, blown and washed away…

    Thanks for your visit.


  3. Very skilled use of the wordle words. I really enjoy the variety of things that come from the same list of words. I have been feeling creatively flat lately but your words managed to get me to write something and post it!!


  4. Witnessing or even knowing the location of a death has a sombre pull with recoil thrown in as the closeness of it even taints the living breath you breathe. Apparently random phrases of alliteration such as “…long after life’s last breath.” certainly adds to the impact of this piece.


  5. Some really good lines, as Drew has pointed out. There are those who believe that last call reflects a whole different meaning, and we are never too old in spirit, only in body and mind, my friend. Thanks for your words of comfort and concern for me and mine. She’ll be in the hospital for several days because of the numerous injuries. But, that just meant that Easter was happier than we thought it would be.



  6. I absolutely love this line: “a rising moon feathers petals.” And also “glimpses flash muted night hues” and “Emptiness tickles night’s deep void.”


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