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The Broken Story
The forge is silent, darkened by shadow A single unfired horse shoe hangs from a hook A spider makes it his home The brook is still, and dull with mud the water almost dry and gone A rainbow floats gently in a small pool The town square is quiet save a departing sigh Only a leaf or two wanders through, Like an afterthought even the clouds remain idle, listless, indifferent A single shadow slips and slides along surfaces Back and forth across the grayness of the day But there is none to feel its unearthly presence It fades into the distance, and a mouse looks At the forge one last time, wondering what it will be He turns and leaves, and whispers farewell This town greets darkness without light Meets silence with unattended silence The darkness waits quietly for their return It waits a broken and untold thing It waits for the binding, and the words it will bring It waits for their return... and waits...to be told
By Jonathan Finch
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