the shrill wail

of a siren


skinny bodies

the place fills 

with ghosts







head bowed

she lights 

a candle


at the tomb  

footsteps in the mist







a shadow crosses

Mary's stone face


mourning moon

the bare trees 

spread skeletal arms







two saucers of milk

for mewling cats...

the witch's eyes


a corner spider 

you cannot see







I try to reanimate

his old stories

bones in the ground


his soul has left

this body