THE LIGHT IN THE SHADOWS

Soft bruise of inner ruin
worms astray my wonderland -
chalky fragile wooden tomb.
To shame, the steely-eyed chargers
dare spin no more.
Instead repose, their frozen stares
the afterglow
of bemused carousels.

Silent,
brittle echo of pipe music,
weary in half dark,
with the many,
alone,
and lonely,
and silent.

Look.
Look. There.
Two audacious streaks
- combust,
the midnight fairy dust,
razing severed locks
on thunder clasps.

And now, the wrecking ball,
declares it’s merciful serenity -
naughty,
and haughty,
latent,
devastating my ghost flowers
where songbirds choke
thick vapid notes
mollified, at last -
pulverizing memories
into sawdust.