A bright blanket of snow shrouds the ground today as
an anemic yellow sun deepens shadows near snowbanks.
Cradled muffins with blueberries picked in summer
bake, their seraphic commit drifting from room to room.
Mlady and Dotty are situated in their usual spots
near the slider door, surveilling cardinals and fox squirrels.
I pour a cup of fresh coffee and cabal a course.
The leather ski boots creak as I pull the laces tight;
they’ve relaxed since last season’s use. There is comfort
in the ritual of adding shirts, hat, gloves; and the gun.
A call; the note are all that remain before embarking.
Plows come through three times a day, making the road
smooth and slick. Not a lot for the poles to dig into though.
I use the shoulder and make good time. Pepper barks
as I glissade down his snaking driveway, past the headstone.
Bent and grey, his lungs heave as he opens the door.
Eyes wary, he shushes Pepper and starts, “What was…”
as I grab his scrawny sweatered arm and yank him
out and into the white. Two pops and two red blossoms
with my goodbye note should suffice. I’m sorry, Mama.
Just a note on the subject of the poem. This is a work of fiction and in no way advocates using violence against one’s self and/or others as a practical solution for victimization by a stranger or a loved one. Help is available. Resources I found doing a quick google search:
The Joyful Heart Foundation
The Victim Connect Resource Center
The Rainn Organization
Grace is today’s host of dVerse’ Meet the Bar. Grace says:
Write a poem incorporating setting (specific or descriptive) in your blog.
Tao Talk 
Oh, you went from comfort and calm to calamity in the end… I am glad it’s not a true story, even if he might be a bad guy.
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Sorry for setting the reader up, but so often these kinds of calamities begin with an ordinary day. I added the note at the end as this is the 2nd offering in a week with a woman and a gun and a worthy target.
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Such a shift, Lisa, from the beautiful setting, serene and relaxed (like the ski boots), to the foreshadowing in the lines ‘There is comfort / in the ritual of adding shirts, hat, gloves; and the gun’, and then the shock of the final lines. I want to know why!
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Many thanks, Kim. I appreciate your feedback, as always.
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You built this up so well, dragging yourself away from the comforting smells an routine, the tugging at boots, trudging through the snow, the sharp staccato of the end and the final plaintive sorry.
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Many thanks, Jane, I appreciate your feedback.
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I enjoyed the poem 🙂
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Wow, you really know how to pull off the unexpected in your poems! I was not anticipating tragedy, but I did initially wonder at:
“There is comfort
in the ritual of adding shirts, hat, gloves; and the gun.”
It’s excellent foreshadowing, and as you say, tragedies happen when we least expect them to. It can be a calm, cool day and then it happens. Very vivid!
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Many thanks, Lucy. I tried to add tip-offs beyond the obvious also.
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A murderous setting. I was totally caught off guard as indeed was the victim. Once again, Lisa, you pull us into a world that is securely under your control, alas, not the reader’s! Amazingly woven tale (and setting).
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Dora, thank you very much for reading and your feedback.
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You make it a pleasure. 💝
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A delicious twisted tale, with a placid setting followed by tragedy. When you mentioned the gun, I at first thought she would be hunting.”two pops and two red blossoms” threw me for a turn, as the reality soon appeared. A chilling ride.
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Glenn many thanks!
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I was content with that snug opening. What a turn! It would seem that accounts were settled, both with beginning and ending.
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Many thanks, Ken.
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What a dramatic change in emotions and scenes. I didn’t realize it would end up in such gore, after reading the wintry delights. Well done!
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Thank you much, Grace.
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It is good to jolt up the readers with something not unexpected but can still happen. It sets them thinking of eventualities in a now, messed-up world
Wonderful surprise Jade!
Hank
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Thank you very much, Hank. I appreciate your reading and feedback.
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Oh my gosh, I loved it Lisa. There I was thinking you were going to give us this warm, homely setting of warm cats and homemade blueberry muffins! Wow! I loved the last two lines ☺️💕
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Christine thank you!
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You’re a wonderful writer. I always love your shock factor ☺️
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Those muffins sure smell good! I can see the dogs with their noses up tot the glass doors wanting to chase that squirrel. The photo is perfect for the second half of your poem. Well done.
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Thank you, Dwight, just shift your vision from dogs to cats and you got it 😉
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Yes, we used to open the laundry window and our cat loved to jump up there and wine at the birds and squirrels in the feeder on the deck!
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This started serene and went very dark at the end.
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I admit, it was a setup!
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😜
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Oh, yeah; perfectly told opening. I was right at home. And then….
BLAMMO!
Ya dunnit gooooood, Lisa!
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Thank you and glad you enjoyed the jolt, Ron!
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This overwhelms. So vivid, so matter of fact, luring me into a false sense of security … then you let everything explode. Wow.
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Thanks much for reading and your comment, Helen.
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Perfect pic to accompany a well-crafted Gothic-like revenge. Well done.
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Doug, thank you!
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Everything changes with the addition of the gun! From a cosy winter scene to desperation and murder: a rip-roading ride of a dramatic monologue, Lisa!
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Many thanks, Ingrid!
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Just the word gun changes everything. As it does in any life. (K)
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Thanks, K, and yes.
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This beautiful Lisa, rich in poetic texture. Well written!
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Rob, many thanks! I hate to say I had fun writing it, but I did.
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