toward day's end,
the shadowlands creep
down the valley.
Shadowlands [Haiku]
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creek that trickles
through a stark winterscape —
days from riverhood.

The ones involving eating. They provided the necessary nutrients.

Condemnation placard
Stapled to the church door
With the commanding tone
Of Luther’s notice.
The Condemned has stately bones
But its skin and viscera
Are in shambles.
Sun pierces stained glass,
Bathing dirty surfaces
With bright color,
But the dust and rat shit
Remain to create a
Miasma within.
One day a wrecking ball
Will make good on the
Condemnation.



I don’t believe. I don’t disbelieve. I have insufficient data on which to draw a conclusion.