Landing

“Where’s the moon?”
Gasping in the dark there,
Caught up in the branches
Through the kitchen window.

I can’t breathe.

*

“Can I come in?”
No, I’m growing wheat
And my herd and flock
Are grazing here.
You’ll have to rot.

Your blood and bones
Will fertilise my earth.

You can’t breathe here.

*

The moon is screaming.
It will keep us awake.
Suffocate us all.

Advertisements

Please leave a Reply :)

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s