The Witness In The Window – Poetry Contest

The photo to the left captures perfectly the mood I’m getting from the story. That photo is of and by Sophie Elliot. It’s powerful, emotional, evocative, and beautiful.

Please take a moment and explore the wonder that is the art and photography on her blog.

I’m going to the well one more time with this poetry contest. As usual, the winning entry will get to post a guest post on UDoJ, on any subject of your choice and without edit.

You all wrote some beautiful stuff in response to Quietly Naked In The Pouring Rain, and a bit of narrative emerged spontaneously.

Kristine’s entry moved me, and Deacon Barry’s winning counterpoint to that gave us the view of the incident from the husband. Max then whomped us with the final words of the dying lover.

Adding to the story line of the Cheating Wife, the Murderous Husband, and the Dying Lover, I want to get one more view of this incident and then I will make a page here on UDoJ to display them all together.

A refresher of the scene and your current challenge are below the fold.

Kristine –

Quietly naked in the pouring rain,
that tree stands like my memory of you
at tne edge of a promise spoken anew.
Sky and mist and earth mixed again,
but now mixed with tears and empty hands
No voice answers mine, no thunder even
No questions to ask for no answers given,
where you once kissed me just that tree stands.
Beneath that tree where once we had lain
is a tangle of roots that know dark history
in their wordless winding they bind you to me,
quietly standing in the pouring rain.

Deacon Barry –

Quietly, naked in the pouring rain
I’m waiting as you frantically explain
To your angry husband, waving in the air
Those crumpled jeans you sought to hide in vain.

His sharp demands, accusing stare
Your evasions, sobbed despair
How long did this deception last?
This sick, despicable affair?

Your lover’s breaths are faint and fast
And now your time with him is passed.
Your husband screams like one insane
And from his hand his ring is cast.

Your lover knows no more of pain.
His opened throat – a crimson drain.
I clean my blade and watch him die
Quietly naked in the pouring rain.

max

if i had known this
that i would die — ever cripes
i would drown you first

But what is the view from another eye? In my mind I’m picturing the scene:

The Husband has just caught the Wife cheating with the Lover, in flagrante delicto. The argument that winds up outside the home in the pouring rain results in murder of the Lover. There stands the Wife above the body of her dead Lover, clothed in nothing but the dark night and the cold rain, staring at the Husband.

There is a witness to these events. A child watches from the upstairs window.

Winner gets a guest post here at UDoJ on any topic of your choice, without edit. Entries may be submitted until 11:59 PM EDT (GMT -4 BST -5) July 31, and voting between then and 11:59 PM EDT (GMT -4 BST -5) August 7.

In the comments below, please give us Quietly Naked In The Pouring Rain, The Child In The Window.

Filed under: Literature, Poetry, Poetry Contests