The Garden is a House of Death (excerpt)
White butterflies tumble down,
as burning embers from a paper fire,
funeral confetti, fearful blossom,
I saw fallen apples fading
into brown and white
eaten out from the inside,
dissolving circles of decay.
autumn spiders drift silent
silken in recycled parachutes,
clawing at the ghost house
in search of an uncertain future
Issue IV is free to download here.