The Sorrowful Shales of Silver Creek

Autumn arrives as Summer recedes

Breaking the sorrowful shales of Silver Creek

Struck by a stamper that advanced in its weeds

Over dead slate mowed by the brush of two feet

A prospect of whom, is not what one needs

When the fluttering on husk lends watch on a dying thing.

A liminal breeze catching fibrous neck

Disillusion smiled 

While wooden steps turned wet

Effluvium linen, segueing slumber 

The lilting Ohio branches 

Swaddle a night-breath's final shudder

Ebon fingers—entwined in the oak 

An auger opts conjuration 

Where the roots take hold.

Pick your poison... Datura or glove?

Consume for a dream—an Elysian scene,

Evermore pressed, by a timeless touch. 

By and by, this gloom shall spread

Over the marshes and the groves,

A nightly fixture of pastures drenched 

In the follie ov the wooded row,

Blessings be by the pressings seen

Lifting against a statement 

Add another for thy brother

Refusing to submit an assertion as evidence.

For wicks to sing a last chirping plea 

Stretching along the berm 

A vigil light for evening sights 

Of a witch hung by the foot.