Near the woodland marsh,
desperate pleas gargle...

Ravens croon with
ravenous laughter...

Candlelit hearth
splays quivering shadows...

I
As sure as...

If you go fishing by morning light,
there are trinkets and jewels upon the lakeside...

It took many years
to efface the surface...

Is there a weakness
in caring so much...

it clings to your skin,
woven through the wool...

From a murky window, I watch you disappear
Through dusty picture albums, your face is not so...

I remove my washable
face-mask and guiltily gulp...