The heavy shroud of poverty
Mists the early morning
Birdsong breaks forth regardless
They will find worm or maggot
In a meadow
an uncomprehending parting
Between two friends before one lies down
Unable to withstand the entrapment of death
Tears anger frustration
At the waste of potential
Elsewhere pride rears up
Presuming to dictate
To disenfranchise
Uncomprehending of its own denigration
In its attempt to rule
To control
To win at any cost
Soon the sun will burn off the mist
The trees and fields will emerge
And offer their acquiescence
To a world that barely notices
In its desire for more
Or possibly
Simply
to live
Glenda Warburton 