Thursday, 31 January 2013

What Angels?

what angels they?

they that always seem
to be looking
the other way
while in absentia
those robed in blight
and grey
of beak pick the bones of
our grief
genuflecting  promises
on the never-never
of a day
after tomorrow that none
will ever see

what angels they?

they that can no longer play

(Written in the immediate aftermath of the Sandy Hook Elementary School shootings)

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