There is nothing to grieve.
There is just silence.
Row upon row of empty houses
From here to the horizon.
Carrion crows wheel in the dawn light
Like a carnival high wire act.
But there is nothing to see,
Nothing on which they can feed.
Just the abandoned remnants
Of a lost civilisation, decaying.
© 2021 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.
Made of sticks and stones 
Eerie and apocalyptic. 💀
Love these lines~
“Carrion crows wheel in the dawn light
Like a carnival high wire act.”
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Thank you, Michele.
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We come with nothing but our own skins when we get here, so, naturally, we take, nothing, but the skins we are in, when we, go too…
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