South

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A poem about the KKK written in regualar cinquains.

Submitted: May 07, 2009

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Submitted: May 07, 2009

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South

It sprawls,

overspilling

the chair onto the floor,

crumpled and creased like a slumped ghost,

the sheet.

Notice

the hood nearby:

tall, pointed, cotton white

and with two unwavering black holes

for eyes.

You start

to realise

that here in this town still

bedrooms hold secrets that whisper

and kill.

Peter Keeble


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