Looking For The Other Side Of Morning

    
I picture sinue, bone
of decomposition
interred to mix a slurry home
for the soil dwelling minions .


Above a picket fence
does groan
casting shadows on the ad hoc
tombstones
from the fading light
inscriptions once bold
now it's turning to night
the writing looks more old
that describes the life
because the moss has since grown
the sculpture once white
is grey with a green tone .


The church
a stone building
submerged
in the dirge
of unliving
on the hill it lurks
where it's perched
with  bells  ringing
and unforgiving
mated with the ill fated
sombre ,crow caw
of a sharpened  toned claw
a resonation invasion
through the senses
into the raw .


Intermittent wind
gusts a moaning
of lost souls
that have sinned
searching for the new dawning  
wrought iron in gild  
rattles a dull calling
graveyard gates that ding
a final hymn
to the fallen .