Murderous dusk

Sweet dusk
Ate the hillside
Bitten
Huge chunks
And pink blood
Surrounds
The naive
Victim

And out drains
The colour
Until it is black
Surrounded by orange
The swelling
Paint-tap

Blackest water
Laps up the blood
Drenching its lips
Foam
Like soap-suds

Then come the clouds
To eat all the trees
They bite and shape
And float by on the breeze

Then from the sufferer
Emerge the lights
Slicing her insides
Windows, headlights,

Finally the moon
Spreads its final blow
And predator and prey
Are lost,
In shadow. . .