Hark! Who knocks? And do the dogs of war slip past our eyes?

So helpless we, the people with our urban sprall

Cannot without a leader’s call

Summon back the dogs.

What sticks to the spiders web

Is fast forgot when the corpse is dry.

What was it? A fly?

Do flies govern spiders now?

Works a pall but a jobs a job

Or so they say those people

Who long ago forgot to dream

And watch children drown against the stream.

What change will come, and what change can?

Who dares to shift the good lord’s plan?

And wallow in the fog of possibility.

Not us. Not me. I just don’t see.

Who made it thus? By whose hand

Is it all this and that

All A to B

And then blind C.

Blaming is fun, it passes time

And gives me room to sit and stare and hate

And know that I will not be knowing after

The glass runs out of sand.

Times up, and brooding’s done for now

To be followed by activity, that unconscious thing

That puts to sleep the spectre around the corner

Who is only thought to be there.

Be there a little longer, I’ll be back soon enough to brood.

4 thoughts on “Brooding

    1. It wasn’t supposed to be one complete block but in four line stanzas (apart from the last line). I have put the spaces in now but I wonder if it actually worked better as a single block. What do you think?


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