Cellar Goblins

Laid upon the altar
open pages of the Book
echo hollowness.
Send me to my cellared mind
to explore.


Large cabbages
hang by their roots from rafters –
giant spiders
webbing the air.
Pumpkins and squashes
stare out – ghoulish grins
line the damp dirt walls.

A shiny cream can
filled with parsnips and rutabagas
hunches like a silver ghost
ready to snatch me as I pass.

I go to the field
to pick berries for a pie.
Misty clouds
hang above the patch.
Reaching in the thicket
I prick my finger on a thorn.
Clusters of berries lure me deeper –

About Cherise Wyneken

Cherise Wyneken is a freelance writer, whose stories, poems, and articles have appeared in a variety of publications, two books of poetry, a memoir, “Round Trip: Reflections On My Life and Rebellion,” a novel, “Freddie,” a poetry chapbook,” Old Haunts,” PUDDING HOUSE PUBLICATIONS, and a new book, Stir-Fried Memories, at WhisperingBooks.com.

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