Dusking

The end of

each day

reveals

a new kind

of nightmare

since the sky

became a menace

of birds

Their horrible

voices echo

in our ears

long after

the receding,

obscene coloration

of sky

had faded

from our sight

like bruises

lifted from our

skin and transferred

what lies overhead

Wherever we go

now there will

be no respite

Our eyes deceive us

Blood from severed

tree limbs stains

the mottled bark

puddling amid

the dead fall

branches, needles

and leaves

The small fires

that burn

the night smell

like dead wood,

burning flesh

We see the unnatural

colors of the flames

the wonders of

smoke that has

no apparent source

Listen to my heart beat

While we were

sleeping some

ear candling

was undertaken

without our permission

Remnants of wax

cling to our

cheeks and are

stiff on the ground

near where we

were resting

Each clot of

black wax

residue

exudes a pulsing

light that mimes

our heart beat

and the insistent

ringing in our ears

that leaves messages

in our brain

we have not been

able to decode

Hollow Mazes

As the marked

paths through

the Hollows

now end in

deer blinds

and cul de sac

we are perpetually

confused by

the simplest turning

in the woods

Low lying fog

and swamp gases

no longer

burn off or are

carried away

by offshore

breezes

Each maze

we enter

feels more

threatening

than the last

Ahead is almost

the same as where

we once were

Where we are now

is nowhere

A sleep wander

Almost by accident

we tumble

upon an open

field were dreams

go to die

At first

we thought all

the tiny crosses

were memorials

to pets who

were brought here

to be interred

Only later,

when we found

the polished skulls

of human creatures

too anomalous

to survive,

did we understand

the pet graveyard

was elsewhere

near where

the poison plants

were grown,

nurtured by

a septic water

source