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the cool tablet square
of grey skies
the red ferocity
spaced in its heirarchy

a mower drones lost
beneath the shade of summers
shadow underline

black crows shiny
as a fragment of nite
sit silent

an illusion of shape
on limbs empty

nights flare distilled
through the entropy

like roman numeral
on book spines

bleached sheets
and well spring

while a moon hunts
for the companion
of planetary host

Editing stage: 


Red sun going down, darkness creeping in, the sound of a lawnmower going: someone trying to get done at the last second, the outlines of leafless trees, crows perched for the night...the moon looking to revolve around the planet while it lights up the night amazing visual...again just my interpretation of your writing...I could be wrong...

Keep Writing,

"Quoth said the Raven, NEVERMORE"

voyeur unspent
breath hot against
the dusk

cigarettes mound with
white carcasses that
litter the manicured grass
tenderly fertilized
marking time exalting the fusion

hitchhiking with natures essence
espies need

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