raw paint
peeled apart
a cracked face scattered
shattered porcelain fingers
lying so still beneath a dying sun
shadows piercing holes
black long gaping maws
over sweet yellow green grass
on the edge of the lawn
a portrait so skillfully conjured
a mute death of artless romance
on my doorstep
I refuse to mourn
-- These days for me writing has been like pulling teeth. At least the urge to do so has come back. With a vengeance I wish I had the skills to express.
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Halloween is Right around the corner.. .
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Your skills are certainly "there." I am never disappointed when I read you. This one was no exception. Visuals are us.
Thanks and Write on..... 
