there was one on the porch

one toppled barrel
with no tough edges
flaunted flawless marks
lid still dancing, alive and well
put to bed

and out it flowed

the darkest matter,
that denied all light
and screeched for shine

which crawled over the boards,
didn’t look back
sunk into the crevasses,
fell for no crack
dripped onto the grass,


and left no stains