The Cranberry Bog

by Kenneth Vincent Walker

From terrifying
Campfire stories
To urban legends;
Distorted, morbid,
Sordid tales of yore.

The early morning
Fog has now lifted;
Yet a nauseating,
Unsettled feeling
Persists looming on

The edge of horror.

Below the surface
Of a crimson water
Which bleeds out
Freely as lifeless
Bodies float, empty

Boats, fallen logs,
Eroding, bloating,
Decomposing just
Below the tainted,
Stained surface of

The cranberry bog.