The World in Winter

 

Art thrives when the world has fallen apart. Art is the attempt to put it back together.

The US seems now gone fascist, following China.

It is time for poetry.

Four walls a door a window

Without, the face-full sea.

Was life ever more than this?

I hear the sirens in the night

I see the weary parade of morning

Rare times the lark sings mad above the snow

Again in the calliope dawn

With a timpani bang and a tin whistle

The shuffling symphony that becomes the carnival day begins.

-- Stephen K. Roney