Chalked

restless
here in double trust

recently expelled
something had frittered away
the tinnutus of history

the roofs    the walls

                                                                                              

stand dismayed in the
stopped air of the afternoon.

something on a broken wall
a hook of superstition      a chrysalis hangs    fogged and ditched
deaf in its second skin cleaving the sway of the weather

no body

something lives here
mud then wire     words break step with light
tilt the stones  names voices erased

something passes through     a distance  shivers spilt light  chalk and flint  bones here  then  now    something

all we find    blears of spittle in the grass
the old days
rain washed bones of buildings          cold and dwindled