epicentre

Perhaps the mood Has greyed A single tone darker Perhaps the dandelion clocks Now shine A single star brighter Perhaps the silver birch Now matches the scene A single day earlier Than else would have been Maybe the mood reaches, far A shadow cast collar Round a tree trunk no further It maybe coals only one canvas One face, one sky of six billion Moon wide like a plate It maybe lasts just one hour Between the calm And fierce weather Whilst the cracks are still fresh Whilst the cut roots still shine Where we lowered you in Was the morning indeed sadder? Or had it inverted the smoke From your burning pyre Did indeed the sky mourn For it had not lifted Or did the sky stall Slow with forgiveness