Do you ever get that feeling
like great waves of grey?
clouds so close
you can taste them;
and the green fire
burning across the hillside,
slowly growing,
stoic, knowing,
is flowing up towards the
sun.
the rain is just now falling,
softly
down.
clouds all around,
and that feeling
stealing your breath
is the only thing left
of the beast with cleft chest,
bare breast,
and the best broken bones.
No guests,
all alone.
No sense in dusting the throne.
Blood rusting on the fence;
you're home.