Tuesday, 31 July 2018

then the voices

you could find her
predawn by
the old covered
bridge

if you moved like a shadow
conceived in the less than light

a world of silence
in her head
overtook the duck pond
by the lily pad bed

then the light
then traversed
the sky

only the pond
remained dark with
her reflection
and the night

then the voices
began to bubble
anaerobic from the depths

then the cry to stop
then the aeroplane
then the cry for help

an orchestra of crickets
picked up where
they left
off

you can find her
predawn by
the old covered
bridge

that's where she died
that's where she
lives