Stop all your sobbing

-- The Pretenders

stop all your sobbing, inherit

the vague listless winds

that cover the fields

with heavenly imaginings – it

is at Night

that these Visions come to

Us, wizened

cores of a splenetic Irony, hands

immersed in blood

these sullen looks and backstage Stares

overcoming Our tethered Veins

to achieve

a Unity

of Spirit, here

below the Elms . . .

*