number

Decay

How the pestilence

begins

before the meat

goes sour and cold

how we drown.

Grieve

Day

how warm

the end

like

rushing silk

and you say

how sorry 

everyone feels

hot pain

Alone

Nestled down

the curvature

of her spine

calling her

absent hands

caught in 

the dark

underneath

layers of blankets

the night calls

crying

a wrong number

called

in the middle 

of the night

with no

answer

Sympathy

They press

past shadows

that drift

in short waves

how sad

their endless faces

misery

that yearns

for a tender

touch

Forever

The glen calls

sweet nectar

honey from the vine

We do invite

Banshee

How silent

the ringing beasts

that call

with force

through

the woods

precious ears

do hear

their final

calls

Peace

When the world

grows quiet

Freedom

wakes up