Whispers

Photo by Thomas Stephan, Unsplash.

I hear whispers.
Mischief tells a dark tale.
It weaves cruel lies,
catching in the minds
of no better folk,
as potent as a curse to raise the dead,
which cannot be unsaid and never dies.

I hear whispers
as smoke coils in shadows.
No flame to lick me,
just the smart of tongues.
I feared this night would come as doors slam shut.
The wickedness of rumour spits and cries.

Lisa is on duty at the d’Verse Poets Pub and has set a spookily tricky challenge to write a duodora about an aspect of human behaviour irritating to us, and with a Halloween theme. https://dversepoets.com/2021/10/26/dverse-poetics-halloweeny-humans. Here is my attempt!

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