Poem 20160324

the woods still sigh, the owls still weep
in the darkness, dark shadows creep
and thoughts of you still fill my head
the fallen trees run black with mold
the silent leaves no longer gold
a sweet, low song fills me with dread
i left you here cold in the ground
with shuttered eyes, you made no sound
yet there you stand, though you are dead

——

Jane Dougherty Writes
Poetry challenge #23: Nove otto

Happy Early Halloween!