A howl breaks through
the rustling leaves
on a darkened night
in the patch of trees
of branches bare
where colour’s lost
a footstep falls
on a crunch of frost. Continue reading “Then Silence”
by Chris Hall (with apologies to Edgar Allan Poe)
Once upon a midnight dire I sat beside the soothing fire,
Supping on a meaty stew the cook prepared the day before.
Around the house my family slept whilst through my thoughts a silence crept,
As I admired the firelight dancing o’er the polished hardwood floor.
I paid fifty dollars for my newly polished hardwood floor,
This it cost and nothing more. Continue reading “The Zombie”