A barren home
An indescribable emptiness
“Under development”.
A loss which lingers.
The air of pain.
Still, there remains
Something.
A speck of gilt
Serrated and luminous
In the ravaged pasture o’ emerald,
Murders of crow’s chortle,
Feathers of lark’s fall
Bodies of sparrow’s lay.
A display, spread uniformly amongst the
Blades of liquor-green, stained with
Unusual crimson.