BROKEN SEAL---BY ACCIDENT

now as life drifts into ripped thought
shining rising sunset
fumbling these clowns fingers
count the small chipped tombstone clouds
1,2,3,4,5,

oh how wishing the dream
remains tied by a chain,
Death my enchantress calling
yet blossoms in fields,  fenced in the frail vein

1,2,3,4,
wings sound closer
this porcelain hand reaching within
crippled twisted ocean bone
covered by daunted weed and blessed flesh

Silence with its speech slit
stutters against a window cracked and
door leaking dances in front
naked forest excuses the blunted tune

so this sealed mausoleum
calculates amongst the broken fingers
1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,