We gather again
Sit in a circle
Behind a closed door
On the cold, pink bathroom tile
We are
HUSHED
By our leader
And owner of the game
Made to remember and repeat
Our oaths
Of HONESTY
And SECRECY
The question is posed
The light switch is flipped
then DARKNESS
Nervous laughter
Shhh...
We gently place our finger tips on the pointer
And wait
Our heartbeats pounding loudly in our ears
And quickly in our still boyish chests
Then
Ever so slowly
The pointer begins to move...
submitted for Magic in the Backyard's Wish Jar
4 comments:
Brings back memories of pre-adolescent fun.
I never knew about this giggling girl culture of Ouija boards. It does bring bake vivid memories -So great when a poem can do that!- But my Ouija board memories are much more serious. I can't believe I've never written anything about them.
You are indeed an inspiration!
we always do that when i was like 10 or 8 years younger..we thought it really moved because of the spirits, but it was only my playmate who moved it.
(please do visit my blog, thanks) :)
M.A.S. Had some serious ones too, but they didn't lend themselves to a poem!
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