Delicious Demon



Eat the delicious demon.
Gobble him up.
Before his chocolate
nose runs
or his raspberry filling
bedevils your brain.
Breathe in that
cinnamon scent:
sweet, spicy, sinister.
He has the molten texture
of dark lava cake.
Sink into the zippy
comfort of way-too-much
sugar-joy, skating like
vengeful Olympians
in your veins.
The worst demons
are the delicious ones.
Resistance is futile.
He’s hiding his fangs?
Wouldn’t you,
if you were delicious, too?

Notes: Artwork is rights reserved to the original artist. This poem was inspired three years ago by comments on a post. Since then, it has lurked in my draft file, biding its time, sighing, despairing, imprisoned. Finally, I set it free. Dig in and enjoy. Have a magical day! Two weeks to Halloween!

Ghostly Echoes

Wooden covered bridge

Footsteps echo like ghosts.
Dust clogs the air, and
breezes rattle webs then
spin brown leaves
into dry devils.
Sentry swallows
dive from eaves,
startling us into
thumping dance steps:
one forward and two back.
A tiny beak chirps
from a mud cup.
The mother snaps
mosquitoes from midair,
hovering by the nest
like a tiny dragon,
eyes aflame with purpose.
We pace forward cautiously,
no longer sure of our primacy.
We emerge in sunshine,
glad to walk quietly.

Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham

Note: We may build the bridge, but the folk who live there own it. Do you ever feel the past hanging heavily over a place?