Haunted Barn

A monkey, a bunny, and a flamingo
meet in a barn, where there are no horses
or cows, no pigs or chickens, not a single stick
of straw; they meet a purple-hair woman there
who takes them on a journey through walls
and halls, up hills and down in basements,
leads them into attics and above ocean waves,
a poetic roller coaster of hauntings that do not
rest in peace.

A few ghosts wail, taverns and coffee shops
open and close like shutters in a windstorm;
cadavers awaken and stroll Long Island streets
as though they hadn’t died over a century ago.
Barn boards moan beneath their feet, a door creaks
in rusty protest; the monkey oils away the fear.

A mirror on the wall clouds over, a face appears
screaming soundless; the bunny rubs long ears
across the glass and the terrified woman disappears
in a cloud of smoke. When a kite gets caught
the fan at the roof of the barn and it stutters to a halt,
the flamingo flies up, releases the bright purple kite,
and the fan resumes spinning.

The purple-haired woman claps at each feat
of mastery, delights in relieving fright, the barn
haunted no more. The monkey bows, the bunny
dances, and the flamingo flaps fuchsia wings.
They hug, the purple-haired woman arranging
their next poetic exorcism, perhaps on a street
where you live.

~ J R Turek Hour 20