From the telegraph pole
At five to three in yellow light
As black as shiny coal

Still life

The world is stopped and waiting
The clock has frozen still
Except for half a million eyes
That wander to the thrill

Of still life

Fading primrose turns to pink
Shadows play dark hand
To mark a place he floated
When he knew he couldn't land

Still life

There's preserved forever
Still life six below
The most perfect impression
Of a wingbeat in the snow

Still life