static is (25/8/24)

a perfect half moon
held its own
in the cloud-flecked sky
illuminating silver linings
while the dead slept
and the living crept
through shadows left behind
when nightfall fell,
there are answers here
but no one knows
which questions to ask,
somewhere under the rainbow
bluebirds die
and life goes on regardless
as though nothing’s changed,
nothing has,
the psalm remains the same
a metronome pyrographs
the time into
the background noise,
static is as static does,
silver linings
climbing up the walls
make a mark
to show how tall
you are by today.

© 2024 robert greig