Downfall
Ruin gnaws a country church,
its eroding stones ever molting.
Mice nibble; winds whiplash,
roof slates slide slowly over
each decrepit year.
Edges made not to crumble,
return to rubble.
Plinths and buttresses
fade in their faith,
agnostic shadows stretch.
Bats and owls
sweep away as they shelter.
Masonry moves
its mysterious ways.
This downcast day
fleet House Martins,
seek out ways to slip through
every vacant widow,
in this rumbling
cloud-walled sky.
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