INCARNATE
INCARNATE
It stands there on a hill, silent and tall
Looking down on us as we pass along
With none of us likely to heed its call
Do we really know right from wrong
And do any of us actually care at all
Only it is sure of where we all belong
Arms stretched wide, as if to embrace
The Angel of the North firmly in place
Copyright © Howard Osborne | Year Posted 2024
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment