and of this morning none can say
what night monsters passed this way
to leave their tracks in frozen breath
harbingers of cruelest death
to those who once knew mothers care
a fire, a hearth, an easy chair
now severed from the wider hold
discarded, to the winter’s cold
but of this dead morning one can say
we all of us had parts to play.

One comment

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s