Celebrating 50:Viii
Night comes dense
As words without meaning here
The sun has crossed the ragged fence
Of sea licking light from the sky
Like a rain
Of false allegiance to our faith
The frogs are croaking a hoarse complaint
Against the endless noise of dogs
Proclaiming worth without pedigree
And guns are barking everywhere
Yet in all this tumult and uproar
I hear rinsing darkness
The voice of children joined in play
And the hope of coming
And I washing clouds away with dew of tears
Wait faithfully for the dawn.
Copyright © David Smalling | Year Posted 2012
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