Apparitions and Empty Gallows

Apparitions and Empty Gallows
by Kieran Borsden
The apparition of happier lips
wilts with crowded petals
grown in cement –
walled by glass trees,
strangled by inhuman veins
that form a warren, twisted
between teeth.
The sleepless tire
through birdsong and instill
a screech after dark –
the midnight hour a nail
bored deep into
the conscious evening
summer tones
in smokeless flame.
Cold fog – as the breath
worn out of white
alcoholic haze and chattering
skies where wings should
be held by the onset of October –
bleeds into transparent
hillsides and empty gallows.