cut down, shaped
to house skin and after
shovel to earth
a home for bare bones
telephone poles, mailboxes
send amber messages
weeping, clinging
warm cement
knocks on the door
respond in hollow bursts
every tip toe, creaks calling
rocking chairs succumb
splinting pieces fuel
blue flames rising
the weight of wood hangs
in many forms
gently whispering
our coffin is yours
-Courtney Hall
Courtney Lee Hall resides in Long Island, NY. She is inspired by the waters that surround her, the earth she walks upon, and the small things that set spark. Visit her at plantsandpoetry.com to read more.