Pitchfork

This hammered out darkness

has been here for while.  I’m

reminded to recall darker

ages. but I hadn’t expected

the fall to whittle me away

shredded, carved, discarded.

About those ages:  young

I picked the apple tree & dreamt

of leaving,  packing up

books, towels, credenzas

in a truck that was going

somewhere I’d expected

but somehow didn’t know:

it’s the time, dear one, to

make decisions.  The wind & rain

have come on strong.

Sheltered as you are,

someone has written doom

somewhere in a book more

like the symphony of humanity

scored by the devil, odd

notes and a trail of codas

as it becomes a sequence

of sirens going off in the night.