Somewhere Called Echo Lake Part Two by Natalie Crick

He drove like a thing without mind.
Vacant, disorientated.
The moon shone down full of pain.
He shot her till it hurt like hell.

He dragged her into the disused factory
Where he lived off the land, all those years ago,
In the old farm buildings
And the sun set blood red on the horizon.

There was no one down there at all
During summer months
And his soul turned
Black as funeral song.

Rain fell down
At somewhere called Echo Lake.
One shining star is falling.
Her ghost is calling.

Back on the beach that day,
An old ship lay broken and charred
As a lightening fork,
The waves hungry and grey,

Roaring in thick fog and wet winds.
I need to speak with you about something.
Something.
Something.

And all at once,
He was ravaged by racking sobs.
Before, before, before.
A place, a time that had gone forever.

The last thing he remembered was
The stink of her blood
And the moon reflected in her eyes at
Somewhere called Echo Lake.

natalie-crick
Natalie Crick has found delight in writing all of her life and first began writing when she was a very young girl. Her poetry is influenced by melancholic confessional Women’s poetry. Her poetry has been published in a range of journals and magazines including Cannons Mouth, Cyphers, Ariadne’s Thread, Carillon and National Poetry Anthology 2013.

 

 

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