But the glitter-strewn,
Held too many pitcherfuls
Of foul grief
To waste corroded,
On lynch mob camaraderie
(Not all cracks warrant deeper penetration).
The solar system’s pawn,
Strung along twinkling Christmas lights,
Would yet echo the pang of loss
In the felling of the knight;
Strategic word placements
Adding unintended pain
To the soul’s list of grievances
(If the noose repressed the teaming madness).
© Jane Bled 2016-2017
All rights reserved.
The statue featured above is my favorite from a hotel I stayed in during my recent trip to Italy.
Thank you for reading. May Sunday find you well.