Mausoleum – James Cotter III

I am bitten as we walk under the fallen angel leaves
The cracking cement face hard and haggard with century lines sidling up to its lover the cold dust
I am as silent as this place allows
Slowly the wistful doom of age creeps into my bones
A fairer skeleton I knew not
Yet through toil and bloodshot tears
Through the hot wet salt and cursing the very breath of our night
My heart creaks with a half-spoken whisper
The careening of my cold bright blue-eyed soul
I am beside myself

Beside the tomb

James Cotter III works as a freelance software engineer, but he devours books and poetry in his spare time. This is his first foray into submitting for publications. He lives in a beautiful and rustic state named Wisconsin.