In Arrogance This World We Think We Made

In Arrogance This World We Think We Made Dark wings fell from the snowy mountain ledge Down the hill into the porcupine hedge Lying there whimpering in last flutter Like morning's burnt toast absent its butter. O' but the red jam is so truly sweet The high mountain glows with its icy sheet There the last ghost bird stands without its wings Morn's breath dances forth and so proudly sings. Mother Nature casts a condemning eye Soon fall splashing tears from a wailing sky The bird changes into a human form Life declares- yes this is another norm. O' but mortals such can never believe We live in a world born to deceive Here fantasy is a fool's great parade In arrogance this world we think we made. Dark wings fell from the snowy mountain ledge Down the hill into the porcupine hedge Lying there whimpering in last flutter Like morning's burnt toast absent its butter. O' but the red jam is so truly sweet The high mountain glows with its icy sheet There the last ghost bird stands without its wings Morn's breath dances forth and so proudly sings. R.J. Lindley, Nov. 15th, 1977 Rhyme, ( Through the dark, a dim look taken )