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the sombre drum

the incessant thud

the trees with bowed boughs

the dogs in the street slink away

the snow is filthy

the river is black

the night cold and dry

skin winces on contact

still the morning flinches from itself

a single bird in the sky

rain in dismal sheets

a chasm yawns

a child wakes in fear

the whispering festering corridors of some hospital

the smell of the healing herbs

red blood on silver metal

the emptiness of an old room

black foul smoke

the quacks nervous caution

the heat of white light

the moon outside pulsates a titanium disc

the door opens to an inner passage

the light then dims

drift away drift away

there is no swan song

a deep silence falls upon the world

and an absence is felt immediately