I’ve returned to the san san and am enjoying the way it links and repeats the same images. Here is a faintly (very faintly) creepy one for the NaPoWriMo prompt.
Slowly it creeps, furtive ink-seep of night,
sucks out the blue and bright gold from the sky—
I smell fungal breath of leaf mould and dead things.
Shadows with night fingers rustle dry leaves,
that once held the life-giving gold of the sun,
coaxing the purblind, the pallid, to walk
beneath the cold gaze of the glittering stars,
dead things that watch while night’s pale fungus grows.