On the Edge

Broad moon rapidly drops six feet out of view. A shadow casts on stodgy, trickling of creek. Sharply, a face breaks ground, above plot’s subdue. The late dead stars fall on waters, dammed and weak. Decrepit spine, of long ago’s sound, breaks through. A lonely girl, on the edge, heeds gusty shriek. Bleak darkness clings to flesh, then sudden bright’ning. Bad news - apparition’s hurling lightning.