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CITY
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There is no wistful choir
Calling over river sallow,
Pain and sickness borne aloft
Sinking into wind's desires.
A city steeped in war's demise
Suffering over gnats song
Willows hanging over time
What lays amid their store?
Who has seen the laden heads
Lambs that bleat day and night
They watch the latest figures hours
Unaware of wolves lurking by.
Where is the quiet seas mirror
Reflecting the poppies bright and clear
Polished new brought to clean
Pastures grown but were so bare.
~Dave~
10 September 2004