crawlspace

Generators croon, coaxing
lights towards morning.
Still life is carved
into silhouettes, shades.

Young as morning
the boy kicks a ragged football
against the corners
of the midnight scene.

Surrounding:
sleeping forest, halos brushing
bejeweled, inky, velvet sky.
Here:
planes of
concrete, ribboned with walls
and their ghostly cousins,
shadows.

Written in gaps
between soul,
solid, silhouette and surface,
a bloomed collective whisper -
The senseless implosion of
life
between deaths.