Wormwood

 







He sat in silence
before at an ancient bookcase.

Outside dusty windows
another day dawned.

Growing light revealed
pitted woodwork.

In a room downstairs
breakfast was prepared.

A toilet was flushed.
Distant pipes vibrated.

Sunlight moved inexorably
across faded wallpaper.

The sounds of day died.
Shadows lengthened.


Unwavering his blue eyes
maintained their vigil.

In the evening sky
Venus slowly appeared.












‚Äč