....... NIGHT'S PRICE

The moon and the star of breezing gold autumn dusk are now

eclipsed by a celestial canopy of sleepy decrepitude;

it might never end

is told or maybe just thought.

A wanderer is lost in concern, displacement and troubles

already forgotten as the road unwinds...

A steeple glows rutilant, suddenly by the roadside:

a titan of mythical presage chimes through the haze.

Then, a chattering misty lawn besieges a run-down cot.

Beetles and limpid pests squat the barn and the granary.

There are bodies in the corn. Dead eyes push pale flowers.

Ages of rot and silence, scent of gambrels and decay.

The door opens like it would to a king.

Step into the room where gloweth the hearth,

tired from the turns of the day, troubles and decrepitude,

and sleepe in the ghostly light.

Wake up squealing.

An unnamable sight — a visitation to savour.

Skin is opened, disbelief ground to dust.

I cannot find the door as the walls keep changing.