And so I ran out into the battlefield
Armed with pretence
And half spoken truths
Where tall yew trees in the distance swayed
morbidly
Gently
In their white wind
Yet I felt no such disturbances
And so too did the dilute rain sway
As curmudgeonly cumulonimbi pass
anxiously
Happily
Yet I took no notice
And yet higher still stood aeroplanes
Of burgeoning silver arrogance
(I thought of them in the likeness
Of soaring white birds)
Yet I espied nothing of such
under all the tumult
And Within my blurred sights
stood a king
The King
Resplendent in a blushing waistcoat
sooty crimson as an unsmiling rose
Raised to a starry height
And plunging now with a stab to the
heart
Sanguis now sangria
stains the leaves
stains the rain
stains the birds
besieged with colour
and pulled from tunnel vision
I see the king emblazoned no longer
birds on land
rain puddled
hills levelled
