scene of a mothman’s crime
iron horseshoes grey and smudged with rust
notched indented rectangular holes, perforated rims
shod long ago, horses gone
an' some oval hanging leather yokes for equestrian draft
hanging with the tack of leather brown
on weathered roughened saw milled boards pegged with nails
make the wall what it is, adorn its roughened face
whose knot holed irregular breaks
between true twelve inch planks of yesteryore
allow discreet views to the outside sun-filled prairie world
coupled with a chandeliered show
of diffused light that enters shyly through the cracks
from a noon day sun on the western wall of this montana barn
the light that slaps the edges of the brass, of the harness
that wears the white of horses' spit an' perspiration dried,
scratches the powdery floor, of fine dust that is the ground
that is whitish gray, like dirty flour strewn in soft mounds
where the dark an' musty debris does not prevail
where the slightest stir of air raises the tiniest of specks
like fairy dust that rides upon the back, of the introverted light beams
the prints of bare feet scattered throughout an' leading to the hay loft
with its severed pile beneath the rawhide leather lassoed ropes suspended,
that hang alongside the washboard sullen galvanized
bear silent labored testimonies now retired,
that she once lived here
the barn owl perches by day in a crevice of the rafters, of the loft
if the loft could talk perhaps it'd tell you of the act
that took place beneath her nose on the hay pile below
ask not of the owl for it was on nocturnal business
in search of rodent prey when such act did violently occur
on a moonlit night in cold of february snow
under guise of shadow played
with motley moon's light and black intermingled clouds
a lone figure resembling a man with glowing eyes of red
stealthily stalked a fair maiden while in her barn
at curry of her horses
it lifted her off the ground and flew off, up
through the highest door of the loft
an' dropped her from that height to dispose of her life
then plunging downward swooped her up again
and flew into the blinding wind and draft of laden snow