A Funeral In January
Early darkness; as oil we drip
Through the heart`s engine
In black; lemon-faced we
shadow the next,
We hesitate with tears and
stutter over earth; arms linked,
distant and cool
To scare a circle of crows
And a falling steeple,music and
words break the shocked ring,
then that is all.
Copyright © Leslie Philibert | Year Posted 2014
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