Time Goblin
The young Strut about in the muck- like blind crows.
Plucking shiny things to fashion powerful machines.
To launch themselves into the hologram of dream...
While the old slowly row between wreaths and stones.
Faith, like a gull feather, drifts away into the foam.
The machine flaming out such a long time ago.
As the goblin keeps time to the caw of the crow-
Copyright © Anthony Biaanco | Year Posted 2021
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