3 Aug 2019

We Are 138 #9 - Sweeping Ashes

Dave’d sid ancient ones - knew what to call ‘em. ‘E was a mon a words. A curious mon wi’ curious skills. Thass why Krampus was at his funeral.
We was waiting - waning around the crescent of the crematorium. Sombre silence broken in whispered celebrations.
Breezes conducted the trees into sways, seashore sounds. Hush.
Look! ‘Orns! Look!
Above the ‘edge was a pair a ‘orns. It bobbed the boundary. Appeared. A black figure, red faced - hungry, menaced. It tapped the ground wi’ a besom - swept a semi-circle. It took six steps - repeated. Dave would’ve called it ‘Dead Man’s Boogie’ or summat. Shoulders back, ‘ead ‘igh, stalking - eyeballing each mourner.
Emma giggled, Thass so Dave!
One follow one, we all giggled. An’ we cried as we did an’ we knew fo’ sure ‘e was a curious mon wi’ curious skills.

R. M. Francis is a writer from Dudley, author of five poetry chapbooks, his full collection and debut novella will be published in 2020. Check him out at https://rmfrancis.weebly.com/ and twitter @RMFrancis


  1. Bloody bostin aar kid!

  2. I could hear every line in the oh so familiar Black Country twang. Awesome.


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