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A graveyard beyond a window
where I slept
dark
cold structures
reaching for the sky
once dignified
wealthy souls
remembered
before
these marble heads
were growing
in a forest
a full moon casts
long shadows
groans heard
as wind echoes
tree limbs bend
kissing
marble
bats fly at night
high above the window
where oak trees line
the property
told bats rip the
hair from human scalps
footsteps of sandpaper
walk the floors
each night
floors creek
a statue of Mary
on the window sill
a beam of light
protects me from
those marble heads
dare I gaze toward
the graveyard
or hid beneath
fresh cotton sheets.
Angie Recommends:
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