My Friend Edgar Poem by Michael Spinelli

Mrs. Mc’Donald told me to write.
Write of my best friend, Edgar.

My friend Edgar speaks of black birds
And tells me stories of maidens and the sea.
Of death and haunting.

My friend Edgar’s eyes are haunted
Filled with ghosts at the age of five
Dancing Spirits turned to stone.

My friend Edgar ignores all of them
Ignores the stones and apple cores
Ignores the little hands that grip and rip his hair

My friend Edgar says his life will be filled with sorrow
As will mine and yours too Mrs. Mc’Donald….
That’s what my friend Edgar says.