« David: Pact | Main | Dave: Shattered »

June 18, 2007

From The Comments: kipp

It’s the ring your finger makes circling a champaign glass, the night of your wedding.

It’s the ring of the sirens you follow home to find a house fire, your wife inside.

It’s the ring of the church bells, as your daughter marries.

The ring of the monitor as her heart beats it’s last.

It’s the ring of the bugle as your son graduates the academy.

The ring of the phone – you’re regretfully informed.

It’s the song of the guillotine, whistling and resonating through its fall.

It’s the scream in your ears, as the chair tumbles and the rope tightens.

Bookmark: del.icio.us • Digg • reddit

Comments

Good story, kipp!

Posted by: Jim at June 18, 2007 11:27 PM · Permalink

Thank You

I knew I needed a strong come back after lasts weeks poetry day (I had serious reservations about even posting this). I wasn’t certain if my post button would work anymore. But then again there have been many other times I’ve posted stories afterward which my computer should have gone “phist” and with a cloud of smoke disintegrated on my desk. You are a very forgiving group.

I’ll try to stay away from poetry days in the future. I guess I did write one good poem… but one doesn’t indicate a trend now does it.

I thought of a title for this story late last night (I got the entire 4th season of the Simpsons for fathers day).

Dooh! my toes touch the floor…. – stupid rope.

Posted by: kipp at June 19, 2007 8:36 AM · Permalink