dusk;
it shrouds the
evening in mist-
a cloaked figure
carrying a message
that will send a mother's
heart rocking.
the smell of eggs
smelling them sunny side up
some comfort in the
familiarity
of a kitchen and a stove
i'll always remember
the moon licked grove
with white rotted
wood being taken back by the earth
and how your eyes lingered there
in ivy and tendrils so green
you looked sad
a rare sadness,
one that comes with great knowing
we never spoke
we never speak
between the long slabs of
concrete that conjoin
the towns we've shut up inside
closing with a dead man's eyes
how did it get this way;
my lungs decayed,
puffing up dust like an ancient tome