Up amongst the jackdaw branches
darker things are stirring now.
The full moon is a-howling
the neurotic werewolves to scamper
and claw themselves back into bones.
The wise old great grey owl
who once tended fortnightly sentry duty
committed earth-bound kamikaze suicide
the evening following the ‘Ceremony Of Tears.’
Unable to help nor witness
‘Her’ burial amongst the godless roots,
which shape the rail-switch of what’s to come.
No fox within a fourteen mile radius
and song birds dwell in brighter poems
than this sad and cruel half-obituary.
‘She’s’ within the bark now,
slowly yet steadily seeping and creeping
upwards through the vice-like trunk.
Pentagram eyeball peeking through wood knots,
chattering clay teeth grinding curses
and begging the Darkness to free her throat
of the [SCREAM] lodged there
like a burning, brambled ball
of sadistically, unrequited love and desire.
Paul Tristram is a Welsh writer who has poems, short stories, sketches and photography published in many publications around the world, he yearns to tattoo porcelain bridesmaids instead of digging empty graves for innocence at midnight; this too may pass, yet. Buy his book ‘Scribblings Of A Madman’ (Lit Fest Press) http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1943170096