Deferential Murmurs for Heroes
November’s fallen leaves are thick about.
Big as hands. Bigger than the goodly book,
and to touch them causes me to feel too small,
like soar-high notes on a piccolo that feels silent
when a rook calls by. And the air, too, feels thick
in silent loftiness, filled of fog that settles
in deferential murmurs. I shiver damp. A chill
from wet takes me none too tenderly, and I
make for home, my fingers idle but reverently
touching the curve and carve of my brass key
that’s so large it surely longs to be with heroes.
NovPAD Day: 4, Superhero. A remix Found poem inspired
by The Mystery of Edwin Drood by Charles Dickens,
excluding “heroes”, and written to prompt.