Friday, January 12, 2007

#264: January 12, 2007

The flags fly at perpetual half-staff
because it's pointless now to make the change;
we cry because it hurts too much to laugh,
and laugh because the sight's no longer strange.

We sacrifice for gods we don't believe,
whose priests have bound their eyes and tied their hands;
we hate because that's how we've learned to grieve,
and fear because that's all we understand.

And when we look behind us there's just smoke,
And when we look ahead of us there's fire;
And no one calls the jester on his joke,
And no one dares to say the king's a liar.

We watch because of all that we've been through,
and wait because there's nothing else to do.


Anonymous said...

fab, fab, fab. i'll send you another poem that this reminds me of.

C said...

Oh my goodness, this is lovely ... I didn't know sonnets could be so song-like, but I found myself humming this one all day & had to go back, track it down, and actually comment.