Auburn grove

The burning shadow on the ground Freckled skin, fallen,drowned Circle still shall the auburn grove And the roaring engines' hasty drove.



Freckled sunlight in the dark Fading cosmos,the dead sky lark Heaving steps,muffled breath A colony of ants, spinning to death.

Cold feet

Cold feet under a frosty skyline Fallen near a smoky kiln The powdered ground under the feet And the mute alarm of a heartbeat Perhaps the weather,perhaps a friend Either together must pretend And you must do your bidding still Should they tether you ,with your goodwill.