Inwood, Indiana is where I lived.
Grain silos and a saloon survive.
Buildings once lively are
Abandoned, rotting, and in disrepair.
I roam from one to another
Searching for one who killed me.
I haunt the town, howling each night
Carrying chains, one link for each year
I have lingered on earth,
They clink and clank as I float
Through each empty structure,
A mist is all I am.
Fogged, thinly veiled, wispy apparition.
Wandering, hunting,
For a killer.
I will haunt this town forever,
Until I find the one,
Who stabbed me with his knife.
“Eerie Inwood” was printed in Salem Cemetery, No. 6 of Inwood Indiana. Pick up the paperback from Prolific Press; the stories and poems published online are free to read here.
Get the paperback
