Poetry

Covered – Closed

February 12, 2010

A sharp edged, moonless night

of cold air where no cold should be

or hammers dropping like gods

before the sickles of human whims

as they move off to sleep

in comfortable beds

and deep covers

and their double-paned windows

closed to keep out foreign air

like we close borders

to keep out foreigners

in poverty on an earth

where no poverty would be

if it weren’t for ignorant, closing eyes

that could care less about lives

so long as they get their sleep

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