When I finished primary school, I was sent to boarding school in the hope I might complete my education. It’s possible the primary reason I was shipped out was that my mother tired of my shenanigans and wanted to get rid of me. Either way, I ended up in the last year of high school as a member of a strange choir.
sometimes I close my eyes and charge raggedly over open ground,
swaddled in gentle air
that is torn by the song of leaden hornets
and ripped by orange tongued serpents of black smoke.
It seemed such a simple thing. I spoke to him, he to me, and then he died. There was no great pealing of bells, nor the stirring bellow of a legion of trumpets. Just a gentle sigh, a mist into which he slowly tipped. Slowly at first like a newly felled oak, then gathering speed and momentum to crash into a little metal closet at the foot of his bed.