I stood on stairs.
Shadow in night.
My parents’ bed,
wretched sight:
Spider’s limbs relaxed,
coarse hairs lying back.
Mother’s fingers,
diamond-studded,
reaching over – liar,
strokes a silvery web
so soon, so soon after.
Daddy, oh Daddy
stung dead.
****
Categories: Poetry, Selection: Early Years
jonathan giles 
Nice. Creepy, but nice.
I was remembering today how Ray and I used to trade poems in study hall in the 8th grade, and then you and I later on.
Your poem reminds me of this lyric I wrote recently. A dream, as I suspect yours was.
Please Can You Come?
Father, Father, oh, please can you come? My train will arrive by five My son, my son, I cannot come It’s been years since I’ve been alive
Mother, Mother, oh, please can you come? My train will arrive by five My boy, my boy, I cannot come It’s been years since I have died
Sister, sister, oh, please can you come? I’ve been waiting at the station all day Brother, brother, I cannot come It’s been years since we moved far away
Neighbor, neighbor, oh, please can you come? I am walking all alone on this road My friend , my friend, I cannot come It’s been years since your home was sold
My Lord, my Lord, can Thou please come? I hear the clang of church bells Sinner, sinner, I cannot come I’ve left you instead down in Hell.
Cheers, J. Alan Hostetter 917-328-1179
>
Alan, I love your lyrics! If you get this recorded as a song, please leave a link here for everyone to hear. Thanks for writing! Best, Jonathan