Bahregeist

A weeping ghost, lost,

Gives to the ground its fears.

The Padfoot presses its nose into muck.

The black river feeds its grief to the grasses

A zephyrus hymnal for the masses

Freshly piled on top of old problems.

Ears prod & perk, a sigh into the cut

Splitting stems by nail, 

Forming the thistle trails

While riding phantom footfall currents.

First paw forward, a shovel splits.

A wound that never heals 

In a race from a shallow dig.

Laccaria in bone,

Growing barrows from the marrow-rinsed

Chesapeake Snow

Rooted where thy number’s writ.

Specter in mourning smoke

A guardian over the granite children

The Watcher of the rows

Until the grim in the grass hits

Shuck of the sodden spirit 

Pleaurant faces 

In the facade of the pediment

Tympanum rococo'd with woe 

Cased in a marbled chthonic swim.

Weeping angel of lamp lit quotes 

Epithet of rest under the cold nap stone

Snuggled under sod, 

Here now lies home.

Obituary script, in the black tar road.