In the mire, rustle dead thoughts.

His mind in the mire

cobblestones lie

where footsteps

once tread.

How mists seep

through sleepy hollows

with eye sockets empty

the leaves shiver

on the graveyard wind

while tree roots scurry

for what was his....

the church bells ring.

Reviews

[Annette Pisano-Higley]

Spooky, haunting, excellent! Great Poe-esque imagery of gloom and doom...yes, we are all fodder for the tree roots after all...Happy Halloween Andrew! Perfect.

[andrew mitchell]

Thanks Annette, happy Halloween too!😳