#jennabarton

You glimpsed a building through the trees, as day slipped into night — darkened windows glistening beneath the neon lights.

Look through the eye of the hunter, asleep.

Out in the dark, the deer are dreaming.

It wore a crown of thistle-down upon its wicked head.

A shivering shape at the edge of your eye — the figure who waits at the end of the drive.

Fleeting dream, vanishing.

Blurry eyes, always looking back.

You hear it in the trees at night — a snapping branch, a sigh.

dappermouth:

Out beneath that summer moon, I saw something change in you.

dappermouth:

Your silent watcher stops to wait atop the cemetery gate.