Soulspring, by Norman Klein.
by David Ackley
The call came at four in the morning.
"She rolled over, skidded more than
a hundred feet on her roof, but she's fine.
She just needs a ride home."
This is not the first time
my daughter has outraced the night,
slipped into the first light of morning
and walked away dumb lucky.
I drive slowly to find her, and say
"Please, no more of this, you hear me?"
"How do you think I feel," she says.
feeling angry, shaken and defiant.
I drive seeing the roof sparks flying in my
daughter's eyes, fearing some avenging angel
who at this moment is winding the soulspring
of her cruel clock tighter and tighter.
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Author's Note
Norman Klein has been a Fictionaut member for more than ten years. The poem here is from his recent collection, "Red Hair." and is published here by permission.
Klein is an MFA graduate of the Iowa Writers Workshop. Poems from the collection have been published in Epoch and Ploughshares.
Other stories by David Ackley
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It's never good news at four in the morning, something explained so well and carefully here.
The closing stanza, very frightening.*
Thanks--for Norman--Dianne and Tim.
Love the. two last lines especially. Really feel for this beleaguered narrator. Nice work
Unsprung with the first line, then carefully (re)wound tight. Good work.
Regards to Norman, and thank you, David, for sharing.
thanks Kyle and Edward, and for the personal note, which I will happily pass on...
"I drive seeing the roof sparks flying in my
daughter's eyes, fearing some avenging angel
who at this moment is winding the soulspring
of her cruel clock tighter and tighter."
As a Dad of a daughter, I know this feeling oh so well...
For Norm, thanks, Daryl.