Thursday, June 27, 2013

Un Soir

Dogs played in the dark
Flickered in the dark

And so the demons dance in the daylight.
The narrator tells another story.
Begins another story.
Leaves, rustling even beneath the scented candles hanging in trees.
Pluck the feathers from the raven
or fallen angel, lying limp on the splintered porch
out back.

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