Thursday, June 25, 2009

Two Brothers

Two glossy ravens

patter along the rusted tracks.

Visual heat.

Green and Blue sheen

melds with the metals reflected light.

Like acid to the eyes...

Scurrying across the burning path

long ago deserted.

Sound numbed.

Golden grassy stalks that border

dare not bend or rustle.

Like an army in salute...

The fowls pace is quickened

as the sickly sun sinks west.

Day's surrender.

Darkness stirs from it's slumber

slowly inks across the sky.

Like blood dropped in water...

Liquid black pupils survey the change

and press on forward.

Tracks vanish.

The hollow way abandoned

never finished, left to rot.

Like the broken-hearted...

Turning back towards the sun's corpse

returning to where they had come.

They march.

Tiny claws tapping rhythmically

the melody of the tracks.

Like haunting echos of the past...

They march on.

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