Monday, November 28, 2016


And so the story goes
But not for the want of telling
And the ice still grows
Upon the dead of night
Waiting for the sun
To break its covetous fingers
And where is the unicorn now
When our time is all but spent
When sighs break like farts
Upon the new morning airs
And if there is no more hope
There is always tea and sympathy
And it is just enough now
To guide a star fallen to earth
Back up into the heavens