The Warning Caw

    

One hundred
years
of broken down
rot
ooze from where
ears
are now not  
worms crawl around
the cemetery plot
under the grass
that grows on top .


Second hand
violet
reflected
as twylight
fighting
to be shone
as dew drips
from being upon
grass blades
that sway
now long .


Adhock
and uneven
weathered rocks
stand leaning
subsiding
to the sink
of the caskets
they're marking .


The scratching
of Owls claws
from grasping
headstones tall
is heard amid
the caw
of a night birds
warning call .
  

Incredulous
are the senses
to all sight
and hell wrenched
stenches
as a slight
groan
turns to belches
beneathe a moaning
holed ground
restless  .


An hourly
chime
resonates
metalically high
and definite
inbetween each cry
from the walking dead
of hallow's eve time
so make a run for it.