deepundergroundpoetry.com
Howls Watched by Owls
Where branches dance
and dust has a rush in a gust.
Where life-like light
fades into sights made for good-nights
Where norms
see forms
Or figures, boarding it all up
For cold winters/to the fore.
Logs
Upon
The
Fire
Some will ask for more
Some will succumb
to the thrill
of
a kill
To howling echoes of whirlwinds
and dust has a rush in a gust.
Where life-like light
fades into sights made for good-nights
Where norms
see forms
Or figures, boarding it all up
For cold winters/to the fore.
Logs
Upon
The
Fire
Some will ask for more
Some will succumb
to the thrill
of
a kill
To howling echoes of whirlwinds
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