Murder
A canopy
Of ravens
Sang cacophony
And called
Me out
Into the soft of day
Which hushed
And sank
Beneath my feet
And kept me
Still
Like live oak roots
Until the moss
Could fall and fill
All empty hope
I had
No sound
But clacking bones
Of palm fronds
Bowed
To cover what remained
Of me
And I, I slept
While insects swarmed
And stars careened
I slept
And dreamt
Of dying
In a different world
-Me
sometimesihatemycat 