On life and its vagaries

A winter that didn’t come

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In the west, they murmur to me, it’s now winter

And the thermo-meter is shivering below naught

Yet the cold clime has been kind to us

It doesn’t freeze up our trees anymore

And make us sing of the warmth of our pretty women

And all the roofs go on breathing fire still

With hooves of summer galloping on them

Tiled floors even flaunt tongues of flame

Roads roar, rivers show gore

The open wickedly shimmer

And the sky, dripping with heat,

Is still an inverted basin of polished aluminum……

I wonder often

Where from all these fevers flower?

Is there a cauldron of hell fire hereabouts?


Written by Sam

January 28, 2010 at 3:32 pm

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