death day
gloom becomes
inkier
blackcurrant
deeper
dusk warblers
salute the passing
of shapes, perished
outlines -
this soluble day
that inch of edges
buries all, chlorophyll
whisperers, root to
anchor quieten
silhouetted traders
unwrap cinders,
charcoal nocturne’s
its gazing
sea-slowed-muffle,
daylight shrugs off
from lichen liked
boughs
an entirety of sleep
wades thru’ the
shadow molested
grasses
inked air
deepness into
every thorough
window
stars, pinched irises
of chrome-width yet
on full glint, such far-
away sparkles hint-
someone is watching
makes the heart glow
better, knowing, cold
is achieving its collars
a sleek glove of knives
patrols sliding thru’ wind-
whipped-convulsing-fingers,
leaf shiver and muse-
about the near rust that is coming
the plough is left awkward-
elbowed for dew to confess
oxides to fasten, wet and sturdy
for morning
steeples about repeat their
vanish, a raven’s wing
crosses the land where
scarce pheasants scarper
and the mind's
rubble vacates
and
replenishes
a ghosting month
attended to by
another anniversary
attended to by
shadow
here, a copy of
tears is added to,
compiles my ocean
of deep shivering blues
i am sure i see you
roam where the pale
orchids grow and white trees
lean up against the palest hills
a river tends to and is
whispered-upon-caresses,
does the white hawk even
notice?
i am unsure of within my
own heart unsure of grief
that never exerts absence,
colour abandons grey
you are not stood or here
always near my senses,
where you stride in the
whitest of woods, do you
ever glance back to watch
the window occupied where
shade only multiplies? see me
in that wreathe of dusk
that continuous lane
arched over and ached with
rust, silent wrists shuffle
the barely warm sun
i am always thinking of
that certain someone
the voice of which i can
never catch
under a moon’s melted
beam scarce few lit
the footsteps i truly
meant
moth stale
memory leafs there
thru’ the bronze and
quite broken corpses
yet another listening
month for the bare
boughs to approve
and winter to thicken