GHOSTLY FINGERS

[Cropduster]

GHOSTLY FINGERS

There are sun-bleached bony fingers
reaching from their wat'ry grave,
a macabre apocalyptic
giving one last farewell wave.

There are bone yards near the dam wall.
There are skeletal remains
screaming for a decent rainfall
as the water level drains.

See the twisted tortured remnants
of a valley that was drowned.
Watching over, their descendants,
from a higher dryer ground.

See their ghastly ghostly fingers
ever reaching up for air,
'til the melted snows of winter
raise the levels of the weir.

See their fingers stand before us
beckoning to worlds below.
Listen to their muted chorus
as they sing their song of woe.

For the trees once owned the valley
once they stood so proud and tall
Now submerged, there's no finale
Just a weir and a dam wall.


Copyright (c) Allan Cropper February 2016

[Heather]

There's a sad picture there Allan a very poignant scene - well described.

Heather

[Neville Briggs]

Good images there Allan. So good that you don't need stanza 7 to explain.

[Cropduster]

Thanks Heather

It is funny you should mention that, Neville. I had decided to end the poem with stanza six, and then at the last minute I added the final stanza, and I am not at all sure why.

[Catherine Lee]

Sad of course but excellent imagery Allan - you can really see this from the very first stanza