Untitled Poem 7
Softly dead you pull down the sheets
Scurrying souls march in unison
With the scattering of moonbeams
Silence peers through the evening waves of drear
Scurrying souls march in unison
With the scattering of moonbeams
Silence peers through the evening waves of drear
Squeak upon squeak rusted chains loosen
Empty faces cast shadows along empty windows
Frantically spilling blue tears onto a gray whirling ground
Hands of the dead embrace in a dreamy sway
A starless night, dumb, hangs above
Steering dreamers to ruin
In corners of back rooms an unseen crimson wound opens
Spilling white life onto the gentle pacing stillness
Tangled bodies caught in death march
Hang bare saluting the ancient sun shining
Falling rain moistens their wild stares
All hang in stillness
Published by Eric Stanfield
Sometimes I write View profile
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