not knowing
what’s around the next bend
five-year-old me
the headless hunter’s
lantern on moonless nights
in her quavery voice
more frightening
than our neighbor’s ghost stories
those wooden legs
I still look for her house
but there’s just the red privy
its vacant hole
OTHER POSTS IN THE SERIES
- The Hollow (1)
- The Hollow (2)
- The Hollow (3)
- The Hollow (4)
- The Hollow (5)
- The Hollow (6)
- The Hollow (7)
- The Hollow (8)
- The Hollow (9)
- The Hollow (10)
- The Hollow (11)
- The Hollow (12)
- The Hollow (13)
- The Hollow (14)
- The Hollow (15)
- The Hollow (16)
- The Hollow (17)
- The Hollow (18)
- The Hollow (19)
- The Hollow (20)
- The Hollow (21)
- The Hollow (22)
- The Hollow (23)
- The Hollow (24)
- The Hollow (25)
- The Hollow (26)
- The Hollow (27)
- The Hollow (28)
- The Hollow (29)
- The Hollow (30)
- The Hollow (31)
- The Hollow (32)
- The Hollow (33)
- The Hollow (34)
- The Hollow (35)
- The Hollow (36)
- The Hollow (37)
- The Hollow (38)
- The Hollow (39)
- The Hollow (40)
- The Hollow (41)
- The Hollow (42)
- The Hollow (43)
- The Hollow (44)
- The Hollow (45)
- The Hollow (46)
- The Hollow (47)
- The Hollow (48)