They grabbed him after nightfall.
No one heard sounds.
Farm dogs lay dead,
Their throats slit.
Death had come with speed.
He must have struggled,
Two kitchen chairs lay overturned,
Glass shards and
Pooled milk leaked between floorboards.
She found her lover swinging,
Inside an old barn out back,
His body pendulous from the wind howling through open rotted doors.
One denim pocket held recorded details,
A fourth notch scratched on wood.