A Sinister Sign

[Barbara Orzeszek]

I had a dream.
I walked through the graveyard.
It was getting darker and colder,
November rain softened the soil.
I began to wade in the mud.
All the tombs were alike.
Out of the blue, I saw a palm
Protruding from the grave.
Its fingers were moving
Like fingers of a skilful pianist.
Panic-stricken, it dawned on me
Treacherous hand was tugging me
Into the grave- somber unfathomable
Depths with no way out.
I was fighting with all my strength
But to no avail.
There was no one to save me.
I was buried alive.