Almost There

  Frozen sunset.

 

  Suspended seagulls.

 

  Trees with sky-piercing tops.

  Dead birds hanging from branches.

 

  One long shuffle after the other.

 

  Shifting shapes in the distance.

 

  She laughs through his gritting teeth.

 

  She laughs through the gravel’s grind beneath his feet.

 

  Laughter becomes static, static becomes pain.

  Familiar whispers, close as peril.

  Fingers down his spine.

  Almost there.