Perhaps A Brandy

perhaps a brandy.... the shovel still caked with dirt, the body restless, turns and groans. the shade o'er the window yellowed by mold, the frail hands of the clock do not move or whisper. the scent of love, lingers and stutters. the fireplace empty, the books weep on the shelf. the old tree fallen just outside your window, the barking of dogs, the prayers of rust. children without faces carry the box into the night... the hoot of the owl, another mockingbird dead! moonlight, perhaps a lie, even the stars remain distant. nothing dressed in wrinkled clothes, squats by the fire, humming an ancient tune. the spider's web reflected on the oil tinged dew, tastes like love remembered! perhaps a brandy?