255 – Beneath The Gibbet

Poem number 255
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Beneath The Gibbet
.
He hung beneath the gibbet
Spinning slowly in the breeze
The flies around his open eyes
And dust around his knees.
.
Beneath his feet Old Faithful lies,
His head upon his paws
A glistening skein of dribble
Hanging from his aging jaws.
.
Beneath the dog, a beetle
Resting gladly in the shade
He’ll wait there ’til the evening
When the heat begins to fade.
.
Three souls, three fates, three stitches
In a tapestry of death
Three different stops along the way
Towards that final breath.

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