Jun. 17th, 2016

Summer days are open and the sky is very high
The days go on forever with the almost endless light
Between the clouds the sky is blue and beckons me to fly
The dark comes late and brief and warm; dawn chorus ends the night

I'm waiting for the winter sleet, the frosts, the wind that roars
With coats and scarves and boots and gloves and hats and drinks in mugs
I pull the walls of home around and fasten up the doors
And all the night I stay content and resting safe and snug
do not politicise these deaths
It is not public, bleeding on the street
In daylight among books or dancing's heat
Blood bubbles apolitical last breaths
Do not politicise the hate
That leads the men to take up arms and kill
The passionate debasement of free will
That kills the young too early, now the Late
Politics is distant schemes and power
Wafting through the air - we all draw breath
We're born and live with politics 'til death 
We're lucky if it's distant in that hour.
"Do not politicise a death" but know
People kill  for politics, even so.

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pomes

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