there is birdsong in the bright morning
and the beep…beep…beep of warning
there are trucks backing-up, with the
heavy-thudding-rattle of tracked vehicles
rolling
over soft earth
there a thousand shades of green unfurling
the new leaves of maples…oaks and elms
there are birds, trilling lauds at sunrise
there are piles of rubble in the street
the sun is warm and yellow
shadows leap from broken concrete
red-brick and steel-rail
pulled
from the street
robins pick through the broken road
looking for something
to eat
the steam-shovels and back-hoes
are silent on this Sunday morning
a monarch was crowned in England today
the enslavement of the people continues
they showed up by the hundreds of thousands
shouting,
god save the king, like a gaggle of fools
all-spun-up for a christening
