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Oct 2019
Little shadow
         harked madam

a bird who wears her wings
only as wardrobe
  (though she dreams
   in fits
of infantasy)

  dusty in her bedroom
in trust to her headspace
      an attic dweller

    home school tutored
a burden to her wellspring
   and buried to her title

         feet behind the curtain
little shadow
         with the unclaimed
the name of


         A foe in the night
an aviary of the berserk :
          vocal nicker
and disputes at high frenzy
  lend from her garret

uneasy on the household
coughing up all of the family
  cussing from their berths

the awoken
shamble and mumble in the hallway
  move in a broken thread up to her attic
   they’ll crack open her privacy
     and find her fast out on the bedding

you can’t spell that to her ghost
        in Elizabeth’s sleep
    it’s sprung from its host

a living haunting
a messed up devotion
  expresses itself on the family
   enforces itself emotionally

the hallways are trailed
    with dried flowers
   and stinging nettles

don’t tread the halls at night
without a pair of slippers
neth jones
Written by
neth jones  Montreal
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