shivering candles
on a yellow brick road,
silently taken,
one by one,
by a grasping darkness.

shallow life.

the weight
of pebbles
left still,
no depth into light.

the sky is
dark night blue.
in a goldenish crescent
moon way,
a Cheshire cat laughs
at the waltz.
one, two, one, two,
the ticking of time,
thin breaking ice.
starless sky.
one, for no more.
two, what trees
stand for.
one, two.
silence fall,
tightening.
could have danced
all night,
charmed
by a blue,
dark night.

the dead tree
roots
birds' songs.

witch crafted
branches,
freezing
a slow motion
of a curling.

who knows...

hearted old ones
also bear
light weighted
memories
of love,
in rooted wings.

you
won't be home
for christmas

nor you will
any other day.

a fireplace
on hold,

awaiting,

for a bard's song.

chords of a time
of horizons
of birds and trees standing
of walks and houses in ruins
of wishes offered away.

reminiscent.
lingering.

even if you will not.

dystopian land,
the kingdom
of selffullness service,

the place
to grow
heroic egos

or

cursings
on regrets.

service
by one's pleasure.

instantaneous and soluble,
for reality dissolution.

Dawn,
birthing the world.

Light and dark,
the color hue
- hills and plains,
trees and gardens
and roads and country roads
and old cored places
and not so old ones.

Breeze,
warmness,
cold,
shivers
and melancholy.

Just it all.
Inhaling it.
Figuring it
as a last sight,
exhaling.

night fell,

clouds
crowding
a tumultuous sky.

in the darkening far,
houses alight into homes.

near, top of the hill,
bells await
enrobed
in the lit silence
of the tower,
lighthouse
in a darkening dark.

time
will pass by,
hurrying,
carried by the
echoed ringing
into a dissipated horizon.

far, far,
the stroke,
the echo,

reverberations
cradling
some melody
on loneliness.