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Click hereWhispers and melodies
simple talk and wayward glances
sometimes the wind carries a song,
whispered in breathless moments
sometimes the sound of the crickets
mutes the stepped feel of the verdant rolling carpets
Why was He called
so many fell by the wayside
the window was left open
verticals fluttering and clanking on one side
Looking at the visage before
and the ways behind
Small choice he had
The clanking stilled for a moment
Ere the sussurated cry trailed down
and the splat that was heard in the jungle
The Other closed the file
slipped it into the drawer labelled 'Disposed’
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