Dark
In the dark
ticking of the hall clock
echoes in the dark
the moons silver beams
are sliced ribbons
across the floor
nothing stirrers
nothing moves
shadows sit near the door
darkness is complete
a fire struggles to keep
it’s embers crimson a light
the wind dances
breaking bones
of ancient trees who
silhouettes traces secret
patterns of moonlight
as hall clocks keep
ticking
talk
in the depth of the still dark
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