closing hours

25 May


as the wind slipped under cemetary walls,stepbystep 001
crunchy leaves were forced into exile
and tall grasses swayed so proudly
even the puddles rippled their applause
Mervins the  watchman heard a familiar whistle
and sent for the nails and planks,
to keep the dead at rest beneath the ground,
but the wind,
“that whistling wind,”
said Mervins
“does what is best…
and we best believe”

words by steve, broken bats

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