Observe the presence of the pile driver

Bang, Pulse, Aftershock

in succession, it pounds violently down

feel the clock trick wrapped around the wrist

Tock, Tick, Click

endlessly in progression, it reels down

drunkenly like the planet in turning

and the fence line grows ever longer

stretching on the brown grass, basking in the winter day

the empty air of frozen chill

and it waits

Bang, Pulse, Aftershock

Tock, Tick, Click

and the sky becomes red with the perverted flames of desire

overlaid by white shimmering ghosts in the mist, a blood pool

sunset

glow filled fireflies trapped in the splashes of abstract watercolor

haunting softly as they drift closer on the shivering breeze

features of the long-dead are hideously visible as they approach

their zombie-like hands are forever reaching

Aftershock, Bang, Pulse

Click, Tick , Tick

the pile driver sputters from existence

the wrapping time trick warps its way to join its brethren

and the wrist is left empty

and the spaceship is overdue

existence is lonely and petrified

awestruck of dread planet possessed by the spirits of the night

overhead in shivering frames, the dance begins

Motion, Freeze, Flicker

one foot, the other, then two hands joined in the dead man’s jig

the celebration swings full under menacing starlight

though gradually sparkling orbs watch in increasing

disappointment

they wonder in louder wisps of vapor

they worry in their perverted tongue

the astronaut continues to decline their extended invitation

protected by the freshly established fence line

he can resist

he can await the incoming spaceship

visible in the falling star streak fading to the horizon

Flicker, Motion, Freeze

Tick, Tock, Click

Bang, Pulse, Aftershock

slowly the world returns to sober motion

the sky ceiling loses its spot like bulbs

and the crimson fades

color replaced by the pulsing pile driver

attacking into motion

and the fence grows ever longer