The Whispered


Memories hang heavy

Like Spanish moss draped

Over the gnarled boughs

Weathered by the voice of years

Fed by long forgotten tears

And traced in the wounds

We are all the whispered here


Visions rise like smoke

A pungent scent seen

Stung in blood-shot eyes

Burnt in the sepia lost

Paying the highest cost

And placed within the tombs

We are all the whispered here


Darkness beats the anvil

With a farrier’s skill

Drummed to war

Bodies of the broken

Names left unspoken

Now echoes in the gloom

We are all the whispered here


20 Responses to “The Whispered”
  1. beth says:

    ah, the memories hang on tight and whisper in the background. emotion-evoking poem

  2. yassy says:

    Good stuff, Brad.

  3. I really like that this poem’s words provided visuals to go along with them!

  4. petespringerauthor says:

    I especially like the line about “memories hang heavy like Spanish moss draped.” Such powerful imagery!

  5. Jim Borden says:

    some wonderful imagery in this poem, Brad…

  6. Memories…
    These are mysteries of the mind. Lovely work indeed my friend.

  7. jonicaggiano says:

    Beautiful Brad. This is a sorrowful piece but a reminder of certain costs. It makes me think of the possibilities of war. Big hugs 🤗 Jonikins

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