a tight lid over our valley
cauldron-deep.
We gather kindling
to earn our sleep.
G-d help us
refugees in winter dress
skating home on thin ice
from the Apocalypse.
a tight lid over our valley
cauldron-deep.
We gather kindling
to earn our sleep.
G-d help us
refugees in winter dress
skating home on thin ice
from the Apocalypse.
The thing with feathers?
May it rise.
The thing with feathers?
May it rise.
under this frigid January
gray Saturday sky,
what good will flit
out of this blue yonder,
the META-free
cyber-firmament?
under this frigid January
gray Saturday sky,
what good will flit
out of this blue yonder,
the META-free
cyber-firmament?