Baronhawk's Nest

It fills the reeds
the husks of seeds
a cradle-ing
in between

the sound it makes
the feel it beats
a listen-ing
dead air speaks

it follows feet
shadow-busy streets
a company-ing
souls that seek

it falls like rain
low pressure din
a crush-ing
hearts that shrink

it rips apart
sinews to shards
a claw-ing
un-subtle hints

it breeds from scenes
of might have beens
a dream-ing
un-spoke of hymns.