Casanovia
Take the time
in youth to
Follow the flames
down
Ledger Lane Road,
just past
the bones of old
Patrick's farm lay
Cazenovia Hill.
Beneath the birch,
bare and tall
and ghostly white
some claim angels
come to sing,
others hear
the Devil's song.
My uncle swears
he heard that
birch,
beautiful and bare
whisper death
into his ear.
I've not much to say for that tree.
I've Less to say of that hill.
in youth to
Follow the flames
down
Ledger Lane Road,
just past
the bones of old
Patrick's farm lay
Cazenovia Hill.
Beneath the birch,
bare and tall
and ghostly white
some claim angels
come to sing,
others hear
the Devil's song.
My uncle swears
he heard that
birch,
beautiful and bare
whisper death
into his ear.
I've not much to say for that tree.
I've Less to say of that hill.
No comments:
Post a Comment