On the bridge where ghosts hang heavy
With shadows and bells.
A man doomed will make his murder
All wheels despair.
Discordant reach, a red arched rage;
It’s figures they lay.
The vulnerable ebb soon spent
As shots ring three.
Loud cabinet lock cackle, let all souls heed.
And with blackest of gates; come clatter; come grin.
David Hanks 