Sunday, October 09, 2005

Trees bleed

trickle then a flow,

flesh falling

from bones


jutting from hard earth

clawing toward sky

the moon doesn't care.

clouds cover over

a blanket, a grave

saying goodbye,

making peace

the sun throws

itself on the coffin


to take back cruel

words once said

quaking and weeping

waiting for forgiveness


at dusk--

frozen skeletons rattle

dance in wind,

searching for their flesh.


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