Sunday, March 21, 2010


During the night
the wind blew over,
disturbing the density
of sleep like the call
of ghosts in a graveyard.

This morning we find
gardening gloves
spilled across the lawn,
and a body finally at rest.

Otherwise we would
have passed it off as
a wolf howl in the miasma
of dreams.


Blogger Chris Never said...

Sounds like you are dealing with your own ghosts also Moon, I am sorry for your loss, you write the images of deaths aftermath beautifully in these pieces,kinda wish I could write at the moment...

1:38 PM  
Blogger burning moon said...

mmm, Dave's younger sister passed away last week at 46 after years of ill health. Very sad.

2:25 PM  
Blogger burning moon said...

your words will come in time

2:25 PM  

Post a Comment

<< Home